Jaune the Skeptic
by glare31337
Summary: "If something sounds too good to be true, then it probably is." Jaune learned this lesson the hard way at a young age. Remnant might be full of liars, phonies, and fakes, but that wouldn't stop him from becoming a hero!
1. Chapter 1: The Ace of Swords

**AN: The chapter shown here is the revised version made for the continuation story. If you're looking for the original one-shot, it can be found on spacebattles. Some of the crack has been sacrificed in the conversion—I believe it was necessary to improve longevity. Hopefully it's still enjoyable.**

**Special thanks to Bitter End for volunteering to beta.**

* * *

**Jaune the Skeptic ****—**** Chapter 1: "The Ace of Swords"**

A lone sword pierces an obscure sky: a beacon crowned, yet double-edged.

Once upon a time, Jaune Arc had been told _this_ was his card. He had been just a little boy—a boy who had, against his better judgement, given five lien to a traveling mystic.

Her name was Madame Amarantha Sosostris. She came into town in caravan, set up shop, and gave fortunes to anyone who bothered to speak with her. Nomads were rare in this corner of Remnant, so more than a few people did at first. In a week or so the town's collective curiosity was satisfied and people stopped visiting.

Time turned. Days became weeks and weeks became a month, yet still she lingered. Many assumed she planned to settle down. Life on the roads was harsh and dangerous. Some offered her jobs around town, but she declined them all politely. She said she would be leaving soon, when the time was right. It was clear that she was waiting on something.

Or someone.

Jaune loitered around the wagon for quite some time, building his courage. Normally he would never go off on his own to talk to a stranger, but he had burning questions. Jaune wasn't sure how, but he _knew_ the mysterious woman had answers. A voice whispered in the back of his mind, telling him so.

Perhaps it was the words painted on her wagon: "Answers to Burning Questions at Reasonable Prices!"

Jaune thought she looked strange, when he finally went up to her. She was surprisingly beautiful, but that wasn't her most notable feature.

"You…have red eyes," he said, peering up at her.

"And you," she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "have blue eyes! How nostalgic." She giggled.

"What's it like having red eyes?" This wasn't the question he had come to ask, but he couldn't help himself.

"They get a bit dry but I'm getting used to them," she smirked. "Hello, by the way. I was wondering when you would show up."

"Y-y-you were expecting me? How?" Jaune said timidly.

"So young, yet already so full of questions, aren't you?" she put a finger to her lips. "I suppose I sensed your aura. Even locked away its strength is unmistakable. I recognized it the moment I entered town."

"What's aura?"

"You don't know? Ah, I forgot…just _how_ young you were, for a moment. Aura is the soul manifested," she said sagely.

"Many-fisted?"

"I can explain it better after the reading…" her face morphed into a complex grimace. "Maybe. For now, think of it as a type of magic. Yours being so large means you are destined for great things. You believe in destiny, yes?"

Jaune nodded along. He liked this woman. She was funny. And his family had never told him he had a _destiny_ before. He was learning so much today!

"Before we continue though, my fee." She gestured towards a sign next to her. It said "Fortunes: 5 Lien. Nonrefundable."

Jaune suddenly liked this woman a lot less, but it didn't surprise him that destinies cost money. He had come prepared though. He gave her three one Lien bills, four quarters, and 100 pennies. It took awhile to get all the change from his pocket, but the fortuneteller was patient. When the last penny was counted she ushered him in through the wagon's open door.

"My name is Jaune Arc," he said proudly as she sat him on a chair opposite her.

"Arc!?" Madame Sosostris said melodramatically. "Jaune Arc," she repeated the name to herself. She chewed it over slowly, like she was tasting it. "Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue." She paused to throw some crystal dice in a bowl. "Ladies will love it," she announced.

"Really!?" young Jaune asked.

"Hmmm…," she frowned and looked at the bowl again. Why did she need to double-check? "Redheads will, at least," she said after a long moment.

"Let's move on. As you already know, I am Amarantha Sosostris. I have been blessed with unique…_insights_ into the future." She dug through a drawer until she found a deck of cards, which she spread out on the table before him.

"The type of reading I will do today is a very special one. With these cards I can determine the nature of your soul—and the one that is selected will be _your_ card, a representation of who you are and what you'll become. A portent of your destiny."

"Will I get to keep it?"

"I suppose you can have it as a freebie. I have extras. But first, I need you to touch each of these. It will help them attune to your aura."

Jaune didn't see how that would do anything, but he did as instructed.

Once he touched the last card Sosostris collected them into her hand, closed her eyes, and began shuffling at inhuman speeds. She chanted arcane words under her breath, and the cards began glowing red.

Jaune was starting to have second thoughts about having a destiny. What if his card wasn't the right one? As Sosostris continued to shuffle, he made a silent prayer.

Something in the world shifted ever so slightly, and then the threads of fate unravelled.

An unnatural wind swept through the cramped compartment and the wagon began shaking violently. What looked to be some kind of censer or lamp rattled off a shelf and fell to the floor with a crash.

Jaune was frightened. The air had been still outside and his town never got earthquakes. Was this magic?

Suddenly Sosostris stopped her chanting and the wagon stilled. She did an impressive spring flourish. As the cards landed in her opposite hand, one stayed in the air, held aloft by an eerie red force. It gently floated down onto the table between them, face up. Jaune leaned over to look at it.

The Ace of Swords.

It had to be a good card, right? It meant he would be a sword-wielding ace-huntsman, right? For a moment Jaune felt hope. Maybe he could really do it—he _could_ become a hero.

"What does it mean?" he said in hushed awe.

"AAAGGGHHH!" Madame Sosostris shrieked, clutching her head. Then she launched herself out the window.

Stunned, Jaune ran outside. The woman started ripping apart the wagon with her bare hands. Blood gushed from the glass embedded in her arms as she frothed at the mouth. And just when Jaune thought things couldn't get any worse, storm clouds appeared above them and a bolt of lightning struck the wagon. The force threw him on his back. When he looked up again, the wagon was burning and the Madame loomed over him.

_I was wrong! _he screamed in mental horror. _I don't like this lady at all!_

Pacing before the burning fire, Madame Sosostris ranted and raved. She spoke of wizards, a dark immortal sorceress who controlled the Grimm, maidens, relics, an impending apocalypse, and a host of other things that sounded entirely unbelievable, even to eight-year-old Jaune's naive ears.

Some townspeople tried to calm her down, but she was inconsolable. Eventually a police officer tackled her to the ground. She screamed hysterically as they dragged her away: "Jaune! Jaune Arc! REMEMBEr this day! ReMEmber!"

Jaune sat there crying for what felt like ages, but was probably at most a minute. Someone had gone to fetch his parents. When his mom and dad arrived, he was a red-faced mess of snot and tears.

"Oh, sweetie. Calm down. Mom's here." His mother wiped his face. His dad went around asking the onlookers what had happened.

"Why did she do that?" Jaune gasped when he could finally form coherent words.

"She was sick, Jaune." His father said gruffly. "She wasn't well in the head."

"Will she get better?" He didn't like her anymore, but she had been so nice before she went crazy.

"Oh, sweetie." His mom hugged him. "She'll get the help she needs. But are you okay? Did she do anything to you?"

"She said weird things to me. And she used magic."

"Best just forget about it all," his father said, scratching the back of his head. "She's a fraud."

"But the lightning! And the strange lights!"

"Smoke and mirrors, son," his father said gently. "She probably had special effects set up to make her scam more believable. None of what she said or did was real."

"All of it?" said Jaune with wide eyes. He didn't have a destiny? It had all been lies?

"Yes, sweetie," his mother nodded. "Magic doesn't exist. She was trying to trick you, but it's okay now. We're here and you're fine." His mother hugged him tighter.

His parents misunderstood why this caused him to cry even harder. They probably thought he was relieved. The truth was the opposite.

It wasn't until they took him home that Jaune realized he had been clutching the Ace of Swords in his hand the entire time. He decided to keep the card, and he carried it with him always. Partly because it served as a reminder of that darkest day of his childhood. Also because he paid _five lien_ for it. That was a lot of money when he was eight.

Jaune could have drawn any number of life lessons from the experience. "If something sounds too good to be true, then it probably is," was the one he settled on.

That's why Jaune could not—_did not—_believe that his plan to cheat his way into Beacon was going so smoothly. Not for a second.

Headmaster Ozpin was a paragon of shrewdness and intelligence. He was the _de facto _leader of the huntsmen academies scattered across Remnant, and by extension the leader of all huntsmen everywhere. That a single man could do so much work and wield so much power boggled the mind.

Jaune knew his transcripts couldn't hold up to serious inspection—he had been banking on an underpaid administrator evaluating his application. So when he received a letter of acceptance, written and signed by Ozpin himself, saying that he was 'very impressed' by his transcripts and 'particularly moved' by the application essay, Jaune knew the enigmatic headmaster was up to something.

Still, the bullhead ticket voucher in his admissions packet was genuine. He had confirmed as much when he refunded it for lien at a travel agency and sat out for Vale on foot. If his acceptance was an elaborate set up, he wasn't going to be played for a fool. He would get some things out of this charade at the very least, even if it were just free equipment and an excuse to leave home.

Jaune sighed as he repositioned himself on the tree branch, swatting away another leaping beowolf with Crocea Mors. Fighting Grimm without training would be easier with a firearm, but every blacksmith he had come across was a front for some kind of scam. All they had were mechashifting "gun-swords" and collapsible gatling guns.

Jaune may not have been an engineer, but he wasn't an idiot. There was no way such weapons were practical. Surely they broke down, jammed, and misfired constantly. He laughed in the store owners' faces and showed himself out.

"Phonies," Jaune grunted underneath his breath. A beowolf yelped as Jaune finally managed to connect Crocea Mors with its eye. One down, twenty to go.

Jaune regarded his ancestral blade, lost in thought. But then a whisper in the back of his mind prompted him to switch to a different branch. He barely avoided a swipe from a beowolf which snapped off the branch he previously occupied. It fell into the pack of prowling Grimm below.

He would play Ozpin's game of cat and mouse for now, but man, not being gullible was tough. And scary. Really, really scary.

Jaune sighed as he resumed clumsily poking away at the Grimm.

/ - /

In the highest room of the tallest tower of Beacon Academy, Headmaster Ozpin sipped hot cocoa as he looked out over his school and the City of Vale beyond. He had a reputation for always having his signature mug in hand, which most people assumed was filled with coffee. This supported the common belief that he worked tirelessly and without rest for the good of Remnant. He felt no desire to correct this misunderstanding. The busier he seemed, the less work people gave him.

_Actually, much of my work seems to do itself these days_, Ozpin mused as he took another sip from his mug. The new school year would be starting soon though, so he _had _been busier than normal.

Ozpin rubbed his head. With each passing moment he put less and less effort into the act. If he could walk away from it all without consequence he would, but he knew it could never be so simple. This being the case, he allotted at least half his day to cocoa breaks.

"_Ahem_," a voice behind him coughed.

Turning around, Ozpin was met with the familiar face of Glynda Goodwitch, the Deputy Headmistress of his esteemed academy. She had deep bags under her eyes, which combined with her frown and furrowed eyebrows set off many alarm bells in Ozpin's mind.

"Glynda, forgive me. I was so lost in thought about Qrow's latest dispatch that I didn't notice you entering," Ozpin lied shamelessly. He was using one of his go-to excuses for when Glynda caught him slacking off. Her expression softened, so it seemed to have worked.

"Has he made any progress tracking down Amber?"

"He is close, Glynda. He should reach her soon, and then they'll return here and the matter will be settled."

"That's a relief. I realize that your plans with Qrow and our conflict with the Enemy takes precedence over your duties as Headmaster, but between preparing for the new school year, managing all of your diplomatic communications, and preparing for the Vytal Festival…Well, I'm feeling a little ragged." Glynda smiled tiredly. "It will truly be a relief to have you managing your share of the administrative work again."

Ozpin was panicking. There had been a time once, before Glynda had joined the staff at Beacon, when he had done his own paperwork. It hadn't seemed so bad back then, but he had grown used to the life of leisure that offloading his work on Glynda made possible. Faced with the prospect of returning to those days of working like dog and barely sleeping…well, he would rather move back in with his ex-wife than do that.

"I'm afraid it's not so simple, Glynda…"

"Is there something wrong?" Glynda adopted her trademark inquisitive scowl. He would need a convincing excuse to get her off his back this time. The gears of his mind whirled like the clockwork machinery that composed his office.

"I'm sure you've been wondering why Qrow and I have gone through so much trouble to recall Amber," said Ozpin.

"It's crossed my mind. I figured you weren't comfortable with her roaming around unsupervised anymore."

"Yes, well, that's part of the reason. But there is another, more pressing development that spurred the decision."

"And what would that be?" said Glynda.

"It has to do with one of those other tasks you mentioned…" Ozpin stalled. His tongue felt dry.

"You don't mean—" Glynda's eyes widened in realization. "The Vytal Festival?"

"Yes, nothing gets past you." Ozpin sighed in a mixture of relief and self-disgust. He was outsourcing even his _lies_ to Glynda now. Still, he could work with this. "I have reason to believe—nothing definite mind you—that the Enemy will be using the festival to make a move in Vale."

"An attack on the city?" asked Glynda.

"Most likely," Ozpin nodded gravely. "I believe they plan to demoralize the populace and spread general panic. Recalling Amber was only one of a number of countermeasures I have already begun to implement." He paused for a moment, trying to put as much false remorse in his voice as possible. "With things as they are, I'm afraid I must impose on you a little longer. These preparations will take the majority of my waking hours, and perhaps a fair number of my sleeping ones as well."

Glynda's face morphed through a series of emotions as Ozpin broke the news, eventually settling on resignation. "I…understand. It can't be helped. Maybe I can get Peter and Bartholomew to help with the Beacon-related work at least."

Ozpin sipped hot cocoa. "You should do that. Tell them that I have requested their assistance in these matters, and that all of you will be compensated for the overtime." It was a mostly empty promise since Glynda managed the payroll. She could pay herself whatever she wanted and Ozpin would be none the wiser.

"Noted sir. At any rate, my paperwork problems weren't the only reason I came here. I have some recent updates on Grimm activity to report."

"Go on," Ozpin gestured for her to continue.

"There has been a notable drop in Grimm sightings and encounters on the road northeast of the city. It seems like someone has been through there culling all of the minor Grimm."

"One of ours?"

"No, not a licensed huntsman at least. I've made a few calls on the CCT and the nearby settlements say it was a teenager named Jaune Arc."

"Jaune Arc…that name sounds familiar," Ozpin said while tapping his fingers together. Then he caught the tense look on Glynda's face. Shit, he wasn't out of the woods yet.

"It should. He applied to Beacon for the upcoming school year, but his transcripts had a number of inconsistencies. I set his aside with a few other suspect applications to have you review. You. Did. Look. Over. Them. Right?" The audible punctuation sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

Ozpin winced. He had thought those applications were the special recruits. He sent them congratulatory letters and an assortment of equipment and travel vouchers to incentivize their attendance. It was basically his only contribution to this year's admissions process.

"Of course I looked over it! Jaune Arc, I remember now. I made a few CCT calls and decided to grant him admission. Forgive me, I'm so exhausted from security matters that his name slipped my mind for a moment."

Glynda looked at him skeptically before nodding slightly. "Very well. If you had asked me, I would have said his transcripts were forgeries. But if you had them referenced then I guess I was wrong." Glynda rubbed her eyes for a moment and turned around. "I must resume my own work I suppose. Try to not overwork yourself, Headmaster."

"Thank you, Professor. And you as well. Try to get some sleep, when you can," replied Ozpin.

After she had left the office, Ozpin leaned back in his chair in contemplation.

_Maybe I should look over Mr. Arc's application after all. Glynda isn't usually wrong about these things_. He opened his desk drawer, causing a great flood of unfinished paperwork to spill out over the floor.

_On second thought, I'll wait to meet him in person_. Ozpin began shoving the mound of papers back into his desk. _The Arcs are a famous line of huntsmen after all. And transcripts aside, if he's killed so many Grimm to be worth a report he's probably qualified. Probably._

Ozpin felt quite stressed after his conversation with Professor Goodwitch. Perhaps it was time for another break. He got up from his desk to make another cup of cocoa.

/ - /

It was a typical morning on the road to Vale. Overcast. Foggy. Nothing particularly interesting to look at save some mountains in the distance.

Jaune sported a few nasty scars, and his left forearm was definitely fractured. His once shiny armor looked like it had been through a shredder, especially after the fracture made wielding his shield impossible. He really needed to stop blocking attacks with his body…

At any rate, he had some experience fighting Grimm now, so in that sense this cross-country hike had been worthwhile. Despite his misgivings about Ozpin's letter, he found himself looking forward to reaching Vale. It would be a welcome change of pace from roaming around picking fights with beowolves.

Feeling bored, Jaune rummaged through his pack and took out a pamphlet entitled 'Dust for Dummies and Other Inadequate Individuals'. Some of the vouchers in his admissions packet had been for dust, so he exchanged them for a basic supply at the last town he passed through. For some reason the shop owner insisted that he take one of these pamphlets before he left.

Reading it again was pointless since Jaune had already memorized it, but it was the only thing he had to read. He had used all the _X-Ray and Vav _comics he brought along as fire tinder, and he didn't have the lien to buy any more.

Dust seemed strange to Jaune. He had studied some of its theoretical applications, but he could never afford his own supply. Why was something so prohibitively expensive and difficult to mine the main power source of all the kingdoms? Surely renewable energy sources like wind and solar power would have been more practical.

The majority of Remnant's dust supply came from Solitas. If something blocked trade routes out of Atlas, like a series of major Grimm attacks, the other kingdoms' dust-based infrastructure would collapse as soon as their reserves ran out. The whole situation reeked of corporate manipulation.

"Could it be that the SDC…?" Jaune wondered aloud. It was worth investigating when he got to the city at least. Information would be less scarce there.

This wasn't Jaune's only problem with dust of course. Why did water dust produce water and fire dust produce fire? One was a molecule and the other was a chemical process. And then there were famous unsolved mysteries, like why dust stopped functioning in the upper atmosphere. Hell, the substance was so poorly understood that it might as well be magic.

Jaune's train of thought derailed abruptly as he clenched his right hand. "But magic _isn't real,_" he spat in rage. Just the thought of it reminded him of all the lies he discovered after the fortuneteller incident. Santa Claus. The Tooth Fairy. Pro wrestling. None of it was real. But he wouldn't be fooled again—not by _lies _of society. Nowadays he could spot fakes and phonies from a mile away.

It was then that Jaune heard a low growl behind him, and it came from much closer than a mile away. Turning around, he found himself face to face with an ursa major.

Jaune bravely screamed like a little girl and calmly implemented his primary battle strategy: run to a tree, climb said tree, and poke away at the mean Grimm until he got a lucky hit or it got bored and left.

It wasn't long before Jaune realized that the "climbing a tree and poking the Grimm's eyes" strategy was less effective against ursa. For one, the lumbering Grimm could probably knock the tree over with little effort. For two, Jaune belatedly remembered that bears could climb trees.

"Why me?" he moaned.

He rummaged through his pack and pulled out a metal case. Pulling it open, his clammy fingers wrapped around a vial of powered dust. He didn't expect it to do much, but it might give him some time to think.

"Here goes nothing!" Jaune shouted as he threw the vial, which shattered upon hitting the large Grimm.

To his surprise, the dust _did _do something.

The explosion didn't incinerate the ursa major completely, but it did blow off half its body. He knew not to feel bad for a Grimm, but its death screams were haunting.

Eventually Jaune pulled his eyes away from the charred, burning corpse back to the metal canister that held his dust. He had used one red vial. The canister had three more such vials, and just as many of every other color.

"They sell this stuff to kids!? Without background checks?" he said in disbelief.

It was then that he noticed the fire from the corpse was spreading.

"Typical," he muttered.

/ - /

Some distance away, a young woman and her horse observed a rising stack of smoke. A wild fire, by the looks of it.

_Better take a detour…_ she thought to herself. With a flex of her power she summoned a rain cloud over the burning forest, and then turned around to backtrack to the last fork in the road.

/ - /

A shorter distance away, Cinder and her allies stared down an empty road, waiting.

She suspected something had gone amiss when she heard an explosion in the distance.

This suspicion only grew when that same explosion had apparently set the nearby underbrush aflame, starting a wildfire that quickly encroached on her position.

Emerald addressed her from the road. "Um Cinder, I don't think she's coming. And that fire is getting pretty close. Shouldn't we move?"

"She probably saw the smoke," said Mercury. "Best just cut our losses."

Cinder thought of all the work and planning that had gone into this ambush. They had spent weeks tracking the Fall Maiden in order to predict her exact route to Vale. They had waited carefully until the Maiden went down a road that received next to no foot traffic. They strategically picked this spot, as distant as possible from any settlement, to ensure their battle would have no witnesses.

Everything had been accounted for. This was to be her grand triumph—the first real step on her path to power, so why? Why had everything gone wrong?

"Cinder, come on, snap out of it!" Emerald was shaking her now. "The Maiden's not coming. We have to leave, _now_."

The fire had gotten so close that it nearly surrounded them. She could feel its heat, and her eyes stung from the smoke.

"It's fine," Cinder said, gazing up at the ash-filled sky where a crow flew overhead. They would have to find what detour the Maiden took, but being so close to Vale they might not get a second chance.

"What is she saying!?" shouted Mercury over the roar of the fire. He was already running away.

"This is fine," Cinder repeated mechanically. But it wasn't.

Then it started to rain.

/ - /

"It's fine," Ruby Rose sighed. She was on her back, staring up at the sky.

Being abandoned by her sister, exploding, and getting yelled at by the crabby girl wasn't _that bad _of a first day. And hey, the sun was shining.

"This is fine," Ruby repeated mechanically.

"Are you a robot?" someone whispered off to her side.

Startled, she turned to see a young man crouching a few feet away, his blue eyes regarding her suspiciously. The obvious tension in his posture made him seem like a battle-hardened veteran—an impression supported by the cuts and scrapes and burns which covered his body and armor.

"Huh?"

"You survived that dust explosion, even though it took out a chunk of the pavement. The only things I've seen withstand explosions like that are really strong Grimm and Atlesian droids, and you're too cute to be a Grimm."

"Huh?" Ruby repeated. Then she parsed what he had said and turned a deep shade of crimson. "W-w-what are you saying!? I'm a human!"

The man's eyes narrowed for a moment before relenting. "Okay. I'll trust you for now. If you're lying though, I'll find out. Nobody fools for me for very long." He held out a hand to help her up.

Dazed, Ruby accepted it and got off the ground. She brushed herself off before turning to face the man.

"The name's Jaune by the way. Jaune Arc. Short. Sweet. Rolls off the tongue—" his voice drawled as he stared at her head.

"Is there something on my face?"

"No, no. Weird question: do you dye the tips of your hair? Actually, don't answer that. Dumb question. What I meant was: what's your name?" Jaune scratched the back of his head, cringing at himself.

Strangely, Ruby felt a bit relieved. Finally, someone more awkward than her!

"My name is Ruby Rose. And to answer your other question, no, they're like that naturally."

"Ruby then? Nice to meet you," he replied as he stared thoughtfully at the blast marks in the pavement. "Sorry about asking if you were a robot before. But just how _did _you survive that blast?"

"Oh, something like a small explosion isn't a big deal for a true huntress." Ruby puffed out her chest. "Well, huntress-in-training. We have aura and semblances and stuff. Anyway, why weren't you on the ship? Are you an initiate too? And your armor looks pretty beat up, and is that a sword—"

"Wait a minute," Jaune held up a hand to stop Ruby before fixing her with a penetrating gaze. "Aura? What are you on about?"

"Huh?" said Ruby dumbly.

/ - /

What followed was one of the most frustrating arguments Ruby had ever had, and it was still going!

"Look, see, if I punch my own arm it glows red and I take no damage!"

"You're obviously pulling your punches," Jaune retorted dismissively.

"Then hit me!"

"Listen, I know you're committed to this charade, but I'm not going to punch you at full strength. I could get in trouble for something like that…"

"This is a combat school! One of our classes is literally punching each other!" said Ruby.

"Sounds like an insurance nightmare," said Jaune, still unconvinced.

"What about my semblance then? A normal person can't possibly move that fast. And look at all the rose petals."

"Yeah, I haven't figured that out to be honest." Jaune surveyed the courtyard. Ruby had ran around for five minutes demonstrating her semblance, leaving the area covered in a layer of rose petals. "You could fake the super speed with Atlesian hologram technology and some special dust effects. Not sure about the rose petals though. Do you carry a bag of them that you throw on the ground while I'm not looking?" Jaune rubbed his chin.

"No! Come on! That sounds ridiculous!" Ruby stamped her foot and pouted.

"Exactly. That you would go to such lengths…well, I applaud your dedication. Still, I'm not falling for it. I'm not an idiot."

Ruby seriously doubted that claim.

"Look, about this 'aura'," Jaune made air quotes as he said the word. "You're saying that it acts as a shield, enhances speed and strength, passively boosts regeneration, _and_ gives you a 'semblance' on top of all that? If it's so powerful and useful, why doesn't everyone use it?"

"There are reasons for that! Laws! Didn't you learn them in school?" said Ruby, raising her arms in exasperation.

"Oh, really? I must have been conveniently sick that week," said Jaune with a patronizing roll of his eyes. "I should probably mention I'm from a line of well-known huntsmen too. If this 'aura' is something that all huntsmen use, why haven't they told me a thing about it?"

"That…no…but that doesn't make any sense!"

"No, it doesn't," said Jaune. "Look, I'm not disagreeing with you for the fun of it. It's just that 'aura' sounds, well, too good to be true." Ruby watched as Jaune looked down at his right hand. Was that a card he was holding?

"If there is one thing I know, it's this: if something sounds too good to be true, then it probably is." For the briefest of moments an emotion flashed across his face. Sorrow?

_Who hurt you?_ Ruby wondered. _What happened to you, to make you like this?_

"I have to hand it to you though, you're a wily one Ruby Rose. If being a huntress doesn't work out you have a promising career as a stage magician. I've only met one person better than you. You have talent!"

"MmmmMMMMmmMm!" Ruby shrieked into her closed mouth. _Give me back my sympathy!_

She debated leaving him then and there. Still, in his own stupid way, this boy was trying to be friendly. _I guess there's one last thing I could try…_

"I see now nothing I say can convince you, because you're a big stupid dummy head," said Ruby, muttering the last part under her breath. "But I can do _one _more thing to prove it to you."

"And what would that be?"

"Could you…close your eyes?" said Ruby shyly.

"Um…no offense, but isn't that a cliché start? Your audience is more likely to suspend disbelief if th—"

"Will you do it or not?" she said irritably.

"Uh, yes. Sorry." Jaune closed his eyes.

Taking a deep breath to relax herself, Ruby pressed a hand against his chest.

"Ack! Careful with ribs! Some of them are bruised," he grunted.

"Oh, sorry! Um…stay still." Ruby closed her eyes and reached for her aura. The pair began glowing with an eerie red light.

"_It is with courage that we inherit the dreams of those who rest, and bright our souls must burn to accept this royal test. I release your soul, and by my shoulder, beg you to stop being a dummy._"

Ruby hadn't unlocked anyone's aura before, so she had to improvise the words. The chant wasn't so much necessary as traditional anyway.

There was an audible snap in Jaune's ribs and arm as his fractures were suddenly healed in a burst of white light.

"AGH!" Jaune panted heavily for a few moments, staring dumbfounded at his glowing hands. "I…I can't believe it! This is incredible! This is aura? I have aura!?"

"_Now_ do you believe me? Can you stop being stupid, please?" Ruby felt a bit faint. Unlocking someone's aura took a lot out of her, and the day had been stressful enough as it was.

"I…I don't know what to say. You have no idea what this means to me. I'm sorry," Jaune bowed his head in shame.

_Ruby: 1; Dummy: 0._

"Don't mention it," said Ruby with a small smile. She hoped making new friends didn't always require this much effort. At least now they could talk about something else.

"So, I have this!" Ruby pulled out her baby, Crescent Rose.

"W-whoa, is that a scythe?"

"It's also a customizable high-impact sniper rifle," she said proudly.

Rather than the admiration she expected, Jaune looked troubled. "Oh no! I'm so sorry," he said.

"Huh?" said Ruby, a feeling of dread welling within her. What was he on about now?

Jaune placed a consolatory hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he said gravely. "You were scammed."

"Huh?"


	2. Chapter 2: Paradigm Shift

**AN: I have decided to continue this story! If you haven't already, be sure to read the revised version of chapter 1 (quite a bit has changed from the one-shot). Special thanks to Bitter End for volunteering to beta, and enjoy!**

* * *

**Jaune the Skeptic — Chapter 2: "Paradigm Shift"**

After scanning the auditorium for a third time Yang decided to look for Ruby outside. She felt a little bad about ditching her, but it was for her sister's own good. Bees knees that Ruby was, she sometimes needed a push when it came to social situations.

Of course, Yang had also wanted to catch up with her classmates without Ruby cramping her style, but it was mostly the first reason!

Now the orientation speech was about to start, and Ruby was nowhere to be found. Yang hoped she was just lost and not wrapped up in some trouble.

_Well, it can't be as bad as the last time she went off on her own._

Yang still couldn't believe Ruby had gotten into a fight with Roman Torchwick, of all people. Even if he got away, it was impressive Ruby kept him busy for as long as she did. The authorities themselves weren't sure how Torchwick disappeared, so Ruby did as well as could be expected. Her public service even won her an early ticket into Beacon.

This was in stark contrast to Yang's most recent escapade. Trashing a club after an information deal gone sour was…not her proudest moment. It didn't help that Junior and his sluttily-dressed bouncer could hardly fight back. The one-sidedness of the brawl made the violence much less therapeutic than it usually was.

Yang shook her head as she continued to walk around the main buildings. The "club incident" was behind her now; she would never have to think about it again. She should focus on finding Ruby.

Just then Yang heard her sister around the corner of the building. Ruby was in a heated discussion with a boy, who had just said something about impractical blade orientations and inferior polearms. _Must be geeking out about weapons,_ Yang thought. It certainly explained why they were late.

"Yo, Rubes? Where've you been? Ozpin's speech is about to st—" Yang turned the corner just in time to see Ruby scream and charge at the boy.

"HOW DARE YOU!?" shouted Ruby as she collided with the other teenager in a puff of rose petals. Normally Yang would have intervened, but something about the absurdity of the scene and the amusing look of regret on the blonde boy's face stayed her hand. Their limbs became entangled in an adorably underpowered whirlwind of comic violence.

Yang's big-sister instincts told her it was irresponsible to let them continue. On the other hand, she got a warm fuzzy feeling from watching Ruby put the boy in a headlock. Her little sister was growing up. It almost brought a tear to the eye.

Eventually Ruby ran out of steam. Each of her strikes came down slower than the one before it, only to bounce off the boy's chest in a flash of white light. For his part the blonde teenager was resigned to the beating. His arms were raised protectively above his face, which was stuck in a perpetual wince.

"Urgh! Why do you have so much aura!?" Ruby panted.

"That's partially your fault!" the boy whined.

"I hate to interrupt the bonding moment, but Ruby, mind telling me what's going on?" said Yang.

Ruby started at Yang's voice. Her flushed face somehow turned redder, just then realizing she had been straddling the boy pinned beneath her. _Jeesh, did she not notice I was here? Talk about being off in their own little world._

"Eep, Yang!" Ruby said as she jumped off the boy. "Um, this is my…_friend_, Jaune. Jaune, this is my sister Yang."

Jaune was too exhausted to get up, so instead he lifted his head slightly to look at the newcomer. His gaze flickered between Ruby and Yang. "Sister?" he said with an edge in his voice. His eyes flashed with a strange intensity, but then he rubbed them and it was gone. "Hello," he moaned tiredly before his head fell back onto the ground.

"We were in the middle of a…friendly disagreement? Yeah. Friendly disagreement." Ruby laughed nervously. "Our second one actually."

"If you just met and are already fighting, does he really count as a friend? No offense, Punching Bag," Yang nodded at Jaune, who groaned apologetically in response.

"I've put too much effort into him to give up now!" Ruby exclaimed, cradling the collapsed form of her scythe in her hands. "Even if he's a stubborn doodoo brain."

"I said I was sorry," said Jaune distantly. He had a unique look on his face. It practically screamed "my understanding of the world was recently shown to be fundamentally inaccurate on several levels, and I'm having trouble dealing with it."

_What an oddly specific and telling facial expression_, thought Yang.

"Don't apologize to me," said Ruby, ignoring her new friend's budding existential crisis. She redeployed her scythe. "Apologize to Crescent Rose!"

_Shit_, Yang tensed. _This might be more serious than I thought_. It was one thing to start a fight over a childish argument, but it wasn't like Ruby to needlessly escalate to lethal force. That was Yang's job.

Thankfully Ruby didn't renew her assault. After spinning Crescent Rose a few times she planted the weapon's staff in the ground. She regarded Jaune with an expectant look.

"Really?" Jaune pleaded, but Ruby's eyes were steel.

With a grunt Jaune pushed himself off the ground and turned to Ruby. Then he gave a deep bow.

"I'm sorry, Crescent Rose. What I said was wrong and hurtful."

"Huh?" said Yang.

"Some groveling wouldn't hurt either," added Ruby in a singsong voice. "If you don't want me to spread around all the strange things you said, that is."

The boy muttered "why me?" under his breath before prostrating further on the ground. "Crescent Rose, you are as your creator!" he proclaimed, his voice cracking with a hint of sarcasm. "Your blade as sharp as her mind! Your bullets as piercing as her gaze! Your design and construction as flawless and pleasing to the eye as—"

"Okay, that's enough!" Ruby blushed and gave Yang an embarrassed side-glance.

_Oh, we're soooo going to have a sisterly chat about this_.

/ - /

Yang, Jaune, and Ruby walked back to the auditorium together. Well, Jaune was more staggering than walking. He looked like he had just beaten a king taijitu to death with its own nonexistent tail. It was strange, because it didn't seem like Ruby had hurt him at all earlier. Was it emotional trauma?

Despite Yang's constant pestering the pair was tight-lipped about what had happened. Between the palpable tension, Jaune's haunted look, and Ruby's fidgeting, her imagination began to wander. Perhaps the playful scuffle Yang had witnessed earlier was more sinister than she first thought. Was Ruby secretly a bully?

"I think I see some spots over there," Yang pointed when they arrived. Ruby made to follow her sister but Jaune stayed behind.

"Ah, it was nice meeting you two, but I think I'll sit somewhere else."

"Are you sure?" Ruby said worriedly. "I'm not mad at you anymore, mostly. And I'm sorry about hitting you. I'm not sure what came over me..." Ruby was trying her hardest not to look at her feet.

"Oh, don't worry about that. It's not like you hurt me." Jaune scratched the back of his head. "You've helped me a lot today, and I did kind of insult you and your weapon. Sorry about that. You're definitely a friend in my book. If you want to be, of course," he added quickly. "Supposing you were serious about being friends earlier. I mean, my mother always says—"

"Yeah, I'd like that," Ruby cut in. She smiled.

"Great! I mean, uh, good," said Jaune, suddenly much more upbeat.

_Huh, well there goes the secret bully theory_, thought Yang. She might have to keep an eye on these two. Something about their synergistic awkwardness rubbed her the wrong way.

"Still, you should listen to me next time," Ruby frowned. "I was only trying to help, but you were being really annoying."

"Yeah, uh, sorry about that." Jaune coughed. "That's actually why I want to sit by myself. I need to think about the, uhh, _information_ you told me. I don't think I'd be decent company right now." Jaune gestured to the far side of the auditorium. "I'm just going to curl up in that corner over there and reevaluate my life for a bit. I'll catch up after the ceremony."

"Um, okay. Have fun?" said Ruby weakly. Jaune gave a parting wave to the sisters and walked off.

"Jeesh, what did you do to him?" said Yang.

"It's…complicated. I hope he's alright though." Ruby glanced at Jaune's retreating form one last time before turning to her sister. "That was actually my most successful attempt at making a friend today. I blew myself up and got yelled at by a crabby white-haired girl my first try. Pretty sure she hates me now," Ruby said dejectedly.

"Aww, I'm sure it's not that bad! And hey, you were able to patch things up with Jaune. Maybe you could do the same with her?" Yang patted her sister's shoulder reassuringly. "And if she's mean about it, I'll have your back." After all, it was a sister's duty to look after her siblings.

"YOU!" someone shouted behind her.

_Right on cue_, Yang sighed. Turning around, however, she did not find the crabby white-haired girl Ruby had described. Instead it was…the slutty bouncer from Junior's bar?

"YOU'RE THE BITCH WHO BEAT UP MY TWIN SISTER!" the raven-haired girl raged.

"Shit."

/ - /

Ruby was not pleased to find herself in the middle of another yelling match. At least she was only a bystander this time.

Apparently the girl's name was Melanie Malachite. Ruby doubted that Yang would beat up someone for no reason, so the jury was out on who was in the wrong. Either way, it was up to her to mediate.

"Hey, hey! Can't we all just…get along? It's the first day. We should be making friends, not enemies."

Yang and the Malachite girl cut off their latest round of insults with a mutual grunt.

"Yeah, like, I suppose you're not wrong." said Melanie after a tense moment. "I actually didn't come here to fight."

"Oh really? Could have fooled me." Yang crossed her arms.

"You didn't expect me to be friendly now, did you? After what you did?"

"I feel like I'm missing something. What exactly did you do Yang?" Ruby interjected.

The two girls gave the bubbly fifteen-year-old awkward looks. "Uh, nothing to worry about sis," Yang said slowly, glancing nervously at Melanie.

"So long as you never do it again. If you did, then I'd have to, like, teach you a lesson."

"Yeaaahh. To be honest I'm surprised you're so calm about this," replied Yang.

"I'm not," Melanie said with a harrumph. "You're just lucky my sister and I are in the middle of a spat, so I'm not super interested in getting in trouble over her."

"Why are you fighting?" asked Ruby.

Melanie flipped her hair dramatically and put a hand on her hip. "You see, I'm actually a _special recruit._ Ozpin basically gave me a pile of money to come here," Melanie paused for a moment to gauge the sisters' reactions. "Dearest Miltia didn't even bother to apply. Naturally she's jealous that the Headmaster, like, noticed my incredible talent. Not my fault she wanted to stay at Junior's club…" she mumbled.

Yang's gaze moved back and forth between Melanie and Ruby. "Hey Rubes, did Ozpin give you a pile of money? He did sort of recruit you."

"Uh, no. I didn't get anything like that. Did you?" Ruby asked hopefully.

"No," said Yang tersely. The Malachite girl might have been lying, but if she wasn't, was she really better than them?

"To be expected, really," Melanie sighed. "I heard that there were only three other special recruits besides myself. All hand-selected by Ozpin." She turned to face Ruby. "Getting in at 15 is, like, still a pretty big accomplishment. Congrats."

"Uh, thanks," said Ruby. How did this girl know how old she was?

"Anyway, since Ozpin totally believes I can be the best, I'm not going to sabotage my future by starting fights with you, Xiao-Long. All the same, stay away from my sister. Even if she's being a petty _bitch_ to me right now…" Melanie trailed off. "She's still my sister," she said finally, a hint of sadness in her voice. "Harassing her is _my_ job, so fuck off."

With that, the Malachite gave a parting nod to Ruby and walked away, sashaying as she did so.

Ruby felt the judgement pouring off the other students as the crowd shrunk away from her and Yang. More than a few people had been listening in, apparently.

"Yang," said Ruby.

"Yeah sis?"

"Are you secretly a bully?"

"Ughh…" Yang groaned and palmed her face.

/ - /

Ozpin readjusted his glasses before stepping onto the stage. Amusing diversion that it could be, inducting a new class into Beacon always put him in a somber mood. For the moment the world was at peace, so Ozpin could afford to drink cocoa all day and try not to think about the fragility of modern civilization. Any moment though, without warning, a great disaster might come and snuff out the lives of the children that stood before him. And however indirectly it might be, he would be to blame.

_Let's get this over with. I suppose I need to think of something to say. Perhaps some cautionary advice to temper their enthusiasm_, thought Ozpin.

He hadn't prepared a speech in advance in a very long time. Why would he, when his reputation and poker face always carried the day? The students would never see through the facade—not when veteran hunters, generals, kings, and gods alike had all been fooled by it. Even those that caught on to his lies thought he was some kind of genius chess master. Nobody saw him for what he really was.

Excluding his favored cane, there was but one tool that Ozpin carried with him through his many lives: smoke and mirrors. That was the true essence of Ozpin—no, _Ozma_—the Great and Powerful.

_But smoke and mirrors cannot save the world._ And neither could his cane nor a carefully prepared orientation speech. Ozpin _did _sometimes think hot cocoa might save the world, but then he remembered that the God of Darkness gave mankind the curse of Lactose Intolerance.

Perhaps the world was simply doomed.

"Ahem," Ozpin spoke into the microphone. The room instantly hushed, hanging onto his every word. _Fools, the lot of them._

"I will keep this brief," he said. Best say the speech wouldn't be long up front, so he could stop whenever he liked. "You are all here today because of your skills, your intelligence, and your commitment to serving the people. You are the best and brightest of the future generation of huntsmen—a profession that has existed, more or less, since the beginning of history." He gave the audience a sweeping look, making eye contact with as many students as he could.

"You all have, in some way or another, earned your place here. Congratulations." Ozpin's gaze lingered on a random corner of the room as he tried to make himself look as thoughtful as possible. Facial expression was half the work of an oratorical performance, after all.

He re-centered his gaze on the audience, his eyes unintentionally settling on a girl wearing a provocative light blue dress. "Yes, the talent of some of you is undeniable." He decided to shift his gaze slightly upwards, letting it settle on someone's oversized hair ribbon.

"But I must caution you: you are not so ready for the outside world as you might think." Ozpin thought back to his past failures, as numerous as the stars in the sky. "You will, _inevitably_, find your lonesome self insufficient to solve all the problems that plague society. This is the reason that we have banded together here today. Where the individual fails, a team can succeed."

_Was that girl's bow wiggling? That's awfully distracting. Screw it, let's just stare heroically at that corner from earlier._

"And much earlier than that, perhaps sooner than you could possibly expect, you will find that your current knowledge is inadequate. Your skills lacking. That you are unprepared for the truly strange and terrible threats which lurk at the edges of this world that you've committed to protect." Ozpin paused to let the words sink in. "You may find that the reality of being a huntsman is nothing like you expected it to be," he added softly.

Glynda was giving him a sidelong glance for hinting at the nature of the Enemy, but Ozpin continued unperturbed. It's not like anyone would catch onto such a cryptic hint. It was sound advice either way.

"The sooner that you accept this truth, that there are no absolute certainties in life, the farther you will go. But it's up to you to take the first step."

_That sounds like a good note to end on. Time to wrap things up._

"Before I hand the podium over to our Deputy Headmistress, Professor Goodwitch, I have one last announcement to make." Ozpin gestured for the young woman standing to his right to come forward. "This here is Amber Autumn. She will be taking over Professor Peach's duties in the survivalism and dust studies courses for first years. Please join me in giving Professor Autumn a warm welcome." There was polite clapping as Amber bowed slightly, obviously unused to being in front of so many people.

"And to all you as well," Ozpin addressed the audience one final time. "Welcome to Beacon. Good luck."

Now the applause was thunderous. All he had said was random bullshit, and they treated it like gold.

_How did things get like this?_

Ozpin stepped off the stage. Glynda promptly took his place and started giving instructions that really he himself should have announced.

Just as he was about to exit the room, something caught Ozpin's eye. A young man in the corner was giving him a glare of such strange intensity that Ozpin felt like he was being picked apart. Had someone actually seen through him for once?

Ozpin turned his head to get a better look at the teenager. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and features that scraped at some decrepit corner of Ozpin's ancient mind. The two stared at each other for a long moment, before the younger man's eyebrows quirked inquisitively upward.

_Curious_, thought Ozpin. He gave the student a light nod. The young man returned it in kind. Then Ozpin pushed his way through the door into the solitude of the hall beyond.

_I wonder who that was. _Ozpin took out his scroll and pulled up the first year photo roster. It didn't take long to find him. His name was at the top of the list.

Arc, Jaune. (Special recruit).

"So that's Mr. Arc," Ozpin said quietly. Putting away his scroll, Ozpin felt a strange sensation on his face. _Probably a bug or something_. Ozpin idly raised his hand to shoo the fly away, only to find none there.

The implication dawned on him slowly.

"How long have I been smiling?" Ozpin wondered aloud.

/ - /

Professor Goodwitch's instructions washed over Jaune like cold water, breaking him from his reverie. He had missed most of them already—hopefully Ruby or Yang could fill him in on the details later.

_You have, in some way or another, earned your place here. _Ozpin had been looking straight at Jaune when he said those words. For what reason he had been allowed into Beacon, Jaune could only guess, but obviously the Headmaster had _something_ planned for him. _Or did he?_

"There are no absolute certainties," Jaune reminded himself quietly. This was a truth he thought he had known, but apparently lost sight of.

Thinking back to his conversation with Ruby caused Jaune to blush in embarrassment. Where had he gone wrong? He had been so blind and dismissive it physically hurt. _Or, well, not actually. Aura kind of prevented that_.

Jaune had promised himself that he would be unafraid of the truth—that he would search for it restlessly, regardless of how painful it was to know or look upon.

This was the resolve that left him crying for hours after confronting his parents about Santa Claus.

This was the resolve that caused him to swear off television, out of his distaste for its "reality shows" and "sporting events."

This was the resolve that drove him to train his body and mind ceaselessly in the hopes of becoming a huntsman, since if he couldn't make the cut, then obviously he wasn't trying hard enough.

He had _thought_ the truth was that he was weak. He had accepted this truth—it's what drove him to cheat. It never crossed his mind that he might be missing something. When confronted with this possibility he had gone straight into denial.

"Aura, huh?" Jaune mumbled as he typed the word into his scroll. He had been lying earlier when he said he had never heard the term. He thought it was some kind of new age pseudoscience, like astrology and psychic powers. Still, some things did start to click into place. He would need to redownload the aura meter he had deleted from his scroll. He thought it was crapware like the horoscope app the device came preinstalled with.

Jaune wandered through the crowd of socializing initiates until he found himself on the empty balcony outside the ballroom. Breathing in the fresh nighttime air, he sat on a bench, flicking through article after article about aura. RemNet had them in abundance. It was kind of amazing that he had never come across one of them before.

Or perhaps he _had_, and some strange voice in the back of his mind had whispered to him, telling him to ignore it.

Perhaps it was the _same_ strange whisper that told him to dodge at exactly the right moments as he fought the hundreds of beowolves he defeated to get here. The _same_ whisper that had woken him up to relieve himself, mere moments before nestling nevermore attacked the trees he slept in. The_ same_ whisper that had screamed at him to ignore the teenage girl lying in a crater of rubble earlier that day, and the _very same _whisper that told him Ozpin was making up his speech as he went along.

_Hmm, human instincts are strange_, Jaune eventually decided. _Probably just coincidence_.

If anything it demonstrated his own fallibility. Ruby's revelations had been devastating in the short term, but meeting her was perhaps the best thing to ever happen to him. And Ozpin's speech contained some startlingly relevant advice. There was no way it was off the cuff.

Regardless, Jaune would need to proceed with caution in this strange new world. The biggest danger was resetting his standard of proof too low in overcompensation for his earlier mistake. Just because aura was real did not imply that he should believe in wizards, magic, and the impending apocalypse. One fantastical claim being true did not mean that all such claims were equally valid—that would be a complete non sequitur.

Jaune stared blankly at his scroll.

_On second thought, I better check up on those other things too_. He began typing.

/ - /

Jaune's father was a man of few words. He thought it was best to choose one's words carefully, and then speak them with the utmost confidence. "All women really look for is confidence," he had told Jaune. He had eight kids, so clearly it was good advice.

_Jaune would have said "That's fallacious reasoning Dad. Also, gross."_

He had to admit it: he missed his son.

"Honey, can you help me with this box?" his wife called.

"Coming!" The Arc Patriarch ran to the stairs, where his wife was struggling with a large box. Jaune wouldn't be coming home any time soon, and they could use the extra space, so they were putting some of his things in storage.

"What's in this one?" he said.

"Same thing as the last one, Honey. Books."

Without a word he took the box from her hands and carried it to the basement. Curious, he opened the box and skimmed over the titles.

Jaune's taste in nonfiction had always been…interesting. Most of the books here were anthologies of popular mechanics articles, collected essays on philosophy and science, and references on Grimm anatomy. He picked one up and flipped through it.

He didn't understand a thing.

The book had been written by an Atlesian zoologist rather than a huntsman. It had pointless trivia like the estimated number of vertebrae in a beowolf spine, but nothing useful like average aural loss from a full powered claw swipe or what caliber of dust round was needed to pierce a nevermore's skull. He supposed things like weak points and hunting strategies could be inferred from the information given, but it would take someone much smarter than himself to put it into practice.

_Guess that's why Ozpin recruited him_. His son might have been unusually weak for a huntsman, but he had always done well in school. It was good that the Headmaster had recognized the boy's talent.

Jaune's father put the anatomy reference back where he found it—wedged between a well-worn copy of _The Grimm-Haunted World_ by Cerul Sagan and a book of basic electronic schematics.

Wandering back into the living room, he found his wife anxiously dusting family photos.

"It feels emptier with them gone," she said as she came upon a photo of Jaune and Saphron.

"Yes, it does." There was a loud crash upstairs and the beginnings of what sounded like a new inter-sibling argument. "Not much quieter though," he chuckled.

Jaune and Saphron had always been the most reserved of the Arc siblings, so they had gotten along a bit better with each other than with anyone else. It was no surprise that Jaune wanted to move away from home after his dearest big sister moved to Argus last year. With Saphron gone there was no one to protect him from the insanities of his other siblings. Not all of them still lived in the house, but everyone was over often enough that things hardly felt any different.

_Well, except Jaune and Saph aren't here_. He winced as he heard another crash upstairs followed by more yelling. _I kind of wish they were._

Doing his best to ignore the slow but inexorable destruction of his home, he sunk into his chair. Then his wife threw a notebook at him.

"What's this?"

"Jaune's exercise log. It was laying separate from the other books, so it didn't get boxed up. Could you take it down to the basement?"

"Yes, yes," he said. Yet more evidence of his son's immaculate record keeping. He opened the notebook to its first page, which had been written on and erased so many times that it was on the verge of tearing.

Personal Bests  
Bench: 340 lbs  
Squat: 540 lbs  
Mile: 4:23  
3 Miles: 15:47  
Standing vertical max: 34.5 inches…

He stopped reading there. He didn't remember the standard benchmarks for aura-enhanced humans, but he knew these numbers were embarrassingly mediocre. It kind of hurt to see his son's weakness quantified.

"It's strange—he never seemed that fast or strong, even after you helped him unlock and train his aura," he remarked to his wife.

His wife stilled, and turned to face him with wide eyes. "But I thought you did that?"

"No," he shook his head. "I was busy on away missions around the time we usually brought it up, remember?" Feeding a family of ten was no easy task.

"He must have figured it out on his own then, right?" she said anxiously. "He always did prefer doing things by himself." She looked to her husband for reassurance.

Jaune's father frowned, looking down at the exercise log. His son hardly talked to anyone at school, never watched television, and only read obscure books. He trained obsessively but never exceeded normal human limits. His injuries persisted days or even weeks after they should have normally healed. _It couldn't be that…_

"Ha, yeah, he was like that, wasn't he?" The man said with a booming laugh.

His son was a special recruit at Beacon. He had killed hundreds of Grimm on his hike—a feat that no normal human could ever hope to replicate. Such a person would have to be completely insane to even try.

Besides, even civilian schools spent _some_ time on aura and its role in society.

"One of his sisters might have given him some pointers though," he mused. Not all of his daughters had chosen to train their aura, but some had.

Another crash echoed through the house.

"You should do something to apologize then. For the mental trauma," his wife deadpanned. "In the meantime, I'll make sure that our _fully grown daughters_ don't tear the house apart." She marched upstairs with a look that could freeze Vacuo.

_Gods help them_, he prayed silently. The last time his wife had that look was when Jaune made himself sick from eating nothing but cereal for a month, and all for a silly sweater.

_Still, she's right. I should do something for Jaune. _He was proud that his son had gotten so far on his own. Although he had had his doubts, Jaune had grown into a worthy heir to the Arc family legacy. He pulled out his scroll and began typing.

/ - /

Jaune was leaning on the balcony railing when his scroll buzzed with a new message. It was from his dad. Mostly congratulations and well-wishes on behalf of his family, but it also had some cryptic lines about Beacon's initiation ceremony.

He looked out towards the Emerald Forest, peaceful and tranquil in the night.

"What the hell is a landing strategy?" he muttered.


	3. Chapter 3: He Thought She Was the Heel

**AN: Mostly setup this chapter. Initiation coming up!**

**Beta: Bitter End.**

* * *

**Jaune the Skeptic — Chapter 3: "He Thought She Was the Heel" **

"It's fine, Yang. I still love you."

"I have no clue what you're talking about sis."

"It's okay to be upset. Even if everyone else at Beacon shuns you for your dark past, I'll still be your friend." Ruby's comment was punctuated by a pillow to the face. "That's it. Let out your frustration. Just not with your fists." Ruby dodged a second pillow.

Yang breathed heavily for a few moments as she did her best to come up with a witty response. "Ruby, you're making me…Yangry," she said hesitantly.

Ruby wiped a fake tear from her eye. "All this time, I thought the puns were from a naturally bad sense of humor. But they're really a coping mechanism, aren't they? Do whatever you need to stay calm."

"Ruby!"

Ruby stuck out her tongue as she dodged a third pillow. _Where is she getting all these from? _She bent down to examine the misshapen wad of fabric only to realize it wasn't a pillow at all, but rather a rolled up sweater. She unfurled it.

"Yang, where did you get this!? It's covered in dried blood!" Ruby dropped the dark red cloth with a shriek.

"Hey, who took my sweater?" someone complained.

"Ohmygosh, I'm so sorr—" Ruby turned only for the words to die in her mouth. "Jaune?"

Jaune had obviously been in less-than-stellar physical condition earlier that day, but it was only now that he stood bare-chested before her that Ruby realized the extent of his injuries. Besides the numerous blotches of purple bruises there was a puncture wound on his side that had scarred over, a sizeable cut on his stomach that was still healing, and a huge gash that ran across his right peck, wrapped underneath his arm, and ended on his back. The stitching on it looked recent and the surrounding strip of skin was a sickly black-red, as if it had been seared.

"Oh, there it is." Jaune picked up the sweater from the floor and glared at the sisters, expecting an explanation. Ruby looked helplessly to Yang, but her sister just stared at Jaune, mouth agape.

"What the hell happened to you, Punching Bag?" said Yang in a restrained shout.

"Please don't make that my nickname," Jaune pouted. "And I didn't get all of these at once, if that's what you're asking." He pointed to the puncture wound. "I got this one while I was running from a stampede of boarbatusks."

"You outran them?" asked Ruby, incredulous.

"No, I lured them off a cliff into a lake. Boarbatusks can paddle, but their body structure doesn't let them dive underwater. I held my breath for a few minutes while I stabbed their exposed bellies from beneath the surface."

"Clever. Were there many of them?" said Yang.

"Twenty or so, I think? Not that many, but one of them still gored me. Rookie mistake, I know." Jaune smiled, as if he were remembering simpler, happier times.

"And that gash under your arm?" Ruby knew it was going to be something ridiculous, but she couldn't help herself. It looked fatal.

"Oh, yeah, that one is a funny story." Jaune walked over to his oversized backpack and started rummaging. "You remember what I said earlier, about only having seen strong Grimm and Atlesian droids survive dust explosions?"

Ruby nodded numbly. She had a feeling she knew where this was going.

"Ah, here they are!" Jaune pulled out a pair of severed robot arms. One of them had an integrated dust blade while the other had a gatling gun.

"_Hwooooo_," Yang whistled. "Where did you get those bad boys?"

"It's the strangest thing. I was in Forever Fall Forest, only a few miles north of the city, minding my own business. Next thing I know, a trio of derelict SDC security droids were attacking me. The fire dust I threw at them didn't work so I had to trap them with ice dust and dismember them while they were immobilized. One of their sword arms broke free as I was finishing off its owner. Gave me this." Jaune traced his finger along the stitches.

Ruby couldn't look Jaune in the eye. Unlike Yang, she knew he didn't have aura before this afternoon. His nonchalant recounting of the experience made her a little queasy.

As Ruby's gaze wandered, she noticed a girl staring at Jaune's scar, her yellow eyes wide. _Wasn't she the one who told off Weiss? _The girl had a book open on her lap, but she apparently found Jaune's story more interesting. Ruby couldn't blame her.

"I was kind of bleeding out and staunching the wound with cloth wasn't working, so I superheated my sword with fire dust and cauterized it shut. I somehow stayed conscious, but my screams attracted a pack of beowolves, so I hoisted myself up a tree and jury-rigged the gun arm to shoot them down. Still not sure how I got so lucky with the hotwiring, but I've always been good with trial-and-error stuff like that. Then I limped to Vale and passed out in front of the first clinic I found," Jaune blandly counted the events off the tips of his fingers.

"That sounds…hardcore. And absurd. If you didn't have the wound and the robot arm to match I'm not sure I could believe you," said Yang in a strained voice.

"Good. I wouldn't either." Jaune nodded approvingly.

_Oh gods, he's completely insane, isn't he?_ Ruby lamented. _Why does my first friend at Beacon have to be crazy?_

"If that's the sort of stuff you get up to when you're nearly out of aura, what were you doing earlier that day? Wrestling griffons from the sky? Body-slamming a beringel?"

"Actually, about the aura thing. Ruby un—"

"YEPPP!" Ruby said loudly over him. "Wrestling griffons! Jaune is pretty amazing, isn't he?" She laughed nervously, hoping he would catch on. She wasn't sure how he showed up to a huntsman academy without aura, but she knew it wasn't something to be advertised.

"Er, yeah. Body-slamming a beringel. Something like that…"

Yang eyed the pair suspiciously.

"The doctor who patched me up seemed nice at least," said Jaune thoughtfully. "One look at the robot arms and he said it was on the house. Thanked me for my hard work, even."

"That's a little weird. You didn't question it?" Ruby might not have known Jaune for long, but it didn't seem like him to accept someone's goodwill at face value.

"Oh, absolutely. Pretty sure he was a shady back-alley crackpot. I tossed the 'antibiotics' he gave me into the first dumpster I found."

_Ah, there it is_, thought Ruby. At least she understood his character.

"The prescription was legit though. I went to a pharmacy in the upper-class district, and they accepted it. Good thing, too. Cauterization has a high infection rate. Speaking of which…" Jaune reached into his pocket and took out a bottle of pills. He unscrewed the cap and popped a few into his mouth.

"Sorry to interrupt, but was the doctor a faunus?"

Ruby, Jaune, and Yang turned to meet the newcomer. It was the bow-wearing girl who Ruby had spied eavesdropping.

"Yeah, now that I think about it, he was," Jaune said with a frown. "Not sure what that has to do with anything."

"Of course you don't," said the girl. "My name's Blake. I couldn't help but overhear your story. It sounded…scary. I'm sorry you went through all that."

"Eh, stuff like that is pretty normal for me. And you don't need to apologize—it's not your fault the droids were there. They probably fell off a supply train," Jaune rubbed his chin. "If there's anyone to blame, it's the SDC. They should secure their cargo better."

"Right, the SDC…" Blake mumbled. It might have been Ruby's imagination, but she looked guilty about something.

"Normal for you, huh?" Yang appraised Jaune's scarred yet toned physique. "Hey Jaune, did you get a special letter from Ozpin when they accepted you? Maybe a pile of money in the mail along with it?"

"I did, actually. Well, not a pile of money so much as a pile of vouchers, but I did get a letter from Ozpin."

"You got those too? Thank goodness! I was worried I was being singled out," said Blake. Her bow wiggled in what must have been a sudden draft. "I mean, I don't like getting special treatment. It's a relief to hear everyone else got them as well," she added lamely.

"Very shrewd of you. I was worried about the exact same thing." Jaune and Blake shared warm smiles.

Ruby and Yang shared cold deadpans.

"Do you want to tell them, or should I?" asked Yang.

"Tell us what?" Jaune and Blake said in unison.

/ - /

It was late when darkness descended in the Beacon ballroom.

Blake had excused herself to return to her book and stew in antisocial angst. Ruby expected it was mostly the latter. The girl was cool, but undeniably a misanthrope. She could see why Blake didn't want special attention. It was a small miracle she introduced herself to them at all.

As Ruby prepared to sleep, she put to rest her worries from earlier in the day. She had been afraid being 15 would make her stand out, but with Yang and Jaune drawing all the attention away from her, nobody seemed to care. Actually, given Yang's newly revealed history of bullying and Jaune's…_Jauneness_, Ruby was the most likeable of the trio. At least in her opinion.

_Hmmm…maybe I could do better than them, actually_. Ruby had thought Yang would always be more popular than her, but perhaps this was a sign. Maybe _Ruby_ was the socially well-adjusted one, and Yang was holding her back. Maybe if she abandoned her sister, _Ruby_ could become the most popular person in the school.

"Heh, as if," Ruby giggled quietly to herself.

Yang might have left Ruby by herself when they first landed, but she came back. Besides, sisters had to look out for each other. Ruby had long known Yang liked to punch first and ask questions later. No matter what anyone else said though, she had faith that her older sister was a good person.

As for Jaune, well, Ruby was afraid to leave him to his own devices. He was the sort of person who, if you blindfolded him and left him next to a cliff, would walk straight off, convinced that your warnings to the contrary were lies. He needed all the help he could get. _Speak of the devil…_

"_Pssst_, Ruby. Can I talk to you for a bit? I need to ask you something," Jaune whispered. He pointed to an exit leading to the exterior balcony.

Ruby glanced over to Yang's sleeping bag, which was currently unoccupied. Her sister had gone to the bathroom a few minutes ago. _She probably won't mind if I step out for a while._ She got up and followed Jaune.

Ruby shivered as they stepped onto the balcony. Late autumn nights in Vale were not warm.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't notice how cold it was earlier," said Jaune. "I would offer you my sweater, but…"

"Keep it." Ruby shook her head. "Actually, don't. Throw it out. That thing isn't salvageable."

"I would, but it's basically my only article of clothing. I also went through a lot to get it. Sentimental value and all that."

"Do you have money for new clothes?"

"Err, not a lot. I spent most of my money and Ozpin's vouchers on supplies for my hike. I could ask my family, but I don't like bothering them with things I can figure out myself."

"Like aura?" Ruby said smugly.

Jaune winced. "You don't have to rub it in, you know."

"I think I've earned the right."

"You have," he groaned. "I was planning on selling the robot arms for scrap the next time I'm in the city. Maybe get a gun and have my armor repaired too, if I can get a good enough price."

"Hmm, let me know when you do. I have a pretty keen eye for the market value of weapons. I can make sure you don't get scammed."

"A woman after my heart," Jaune grinned. "Now, the reason I called you here. Do you know what landing strategies are?"

"Pfff, of course I know. That's baby stuff."

"Could you tell me what yours is?"

"You…you don't have one, do you?" said Ruby. Jaune shook his head, confirming her suspicions. "We need to have a talk about all this stuff you don't know. If I'm going to keep covering for you like this, I want an explanation."

"Ehehe, I don't suppose it could wait until after initiation, could it?" Ruby glared at Jaune, who wilted like a rose in winter. "Look," he began. "All I can say for now is that I've found myself in circumstances I don't understand, and Ozpin has his eyes on me."

"You don't know why he recruited you?"

"I thought it was some kind of twisted practical joke at first."

Ruby nodded. _Eh, makes sense to me._

"I still haven't ruled out that theory," Jaune continued, "but it seems less likely if there are multiple recruits. I promise to tell you the moment I have a better grasp of what's going on."

Jaune was clearly hiding something, so Ruby knew she shouldn't back down. She gave her best impression of her dad after catching her stealing from the cookie jar. But then Jaune made puppy dog eyes that could give Zwei a run for his money. _So…helpless…must…resist…helping…_

"Oh, okay. Fine!" Ruby relented. "I'll help, but you better keep your promise." She should have known better than to imitate her dad. He always caved in the end too.

"Deal," said Jaune. "I promise to pay you back for all this too. Arc's word."

"Yeah, yeah. I have to wonder though, what would you do without me?" Ruby stuck her nose up and tried not to smile. Yang had always looked out for Ruby, and she didn't have any friends or relatives younger than herself. It was nice being the one who was relied upon for a change. It gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"Probably break most of the bones in my body as I got catapulted off a cliff into a Grimm-infested forest."

Ruby almost laughed, but then she remembered the stories Jaune had told earlier. This insane fool might have actually done that. Suddenly being relied on felt less warm and fuzzy and more panic-inducing. Gods, this boy's life was in her hands, wasn't it?

"Okay, landing strategies." Ruby said seriously. "I usually shoot a few rounds from Crescent Rose to slow myself down, and then hook onto something with the blade."

"Hahahahaha," Jaune struggled to keep his laughter quiet. "Very funny. Now what's your _real _landing strategy?"

"I'm being serious. I shoot some high-caliber dust bullets, and then hook onto something with my scythe."

"I…I don't understand. How does that work with conservation of momentum? If the recoil on your gun is so strong that it can propel you upwards, how do you use it while standing up? Unless you brace yourself against something it would knock you off your feet."

_Oh no! It's happening again! _Ruby let out a mental cry.

"And wouldn't hooking onto something at a high velocity rip your arm off? I know aura can help prevent that, but aren't there limits? Also—"

_Why are you like this? WHHYYY!?_

/ - /

Roman Torchwick paced up and down the warehouse, contemplating his life choices, if they could even be called that. It seemed his life was a series of forks in a road: one path was a tragic descent into crime and depravity. He never seriously considered the second path because the first always sounded like _such _fun.

Lately though, Roman was having doubts. He had always had a burning passion for roguery, but his heart wasn't quite in it these days. _Maybe I'm in a rut? All these dust robberies must be going to my head._

At least his most recent robbery had been a refreshing change of pace, as botched as it was. His ingenious escape from "Little Red" left him grinning, especially since the police were still baffled by his disappearance. He knew he shouldn't be proud of evading some bumbling detectives and a 15-year-old, but _goddamn_ kids were scary these days. Not as scary as Neo of course, but the point stood.

_Just what are they feeding these pipsqueaks?_ Roman wondered. _Is it something in the milk? _Neo did eat a lot of ice cream, so the idea had merit. His only other explanation was that a girl's height was inversely proportional to how terrifying she was.

Nodding to himself, Roman resolved to avoid fights with women 5'2" and below, and to run screaming if he ever saw a 3' granny. He would also increase his dairy intake for good measure. A glass of milk sounded pretty good right now, actually.

The screech of sliding metal echoed through the warehouse as his beloved employer and her two lackeys stepped into the room. _Damn it._

"Well, well, well. To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of this surprising visit?" said Roman, doing his best to school his grimace.

"We heard you got beat up by a little girl," said Mercury.

"That's just how Neo vents stress," he deflected.

"We meant the other one. You know, the one who so easily foiled your dust store robbery?" The henchwoman was talking now. Why were these kids so sassy?

"Merely a function of incompetent help. Besides, I got out just fine. No thanks to you lot, by the way." Roman waved his hands at the rude children.

"We were preoccupied with more important things. And don't make such a big deal out of your 'confounding escapes.' We know that's just Neo's semblance," said the green-haired toady.

Roman gave her a sullen scowl. Neo had been busy with other things that night. Did they really think he couldn't pull off an unexplainable disappearance or two without Neo's help? That stung his heart, as shriveled as it was.

Cinder remained quiet during this bickering, which was very unlike her. She was the sort of person who loved the sound of her own voice—it taking one to know one. Instead of the usual psychopathic gleam in her eye she had a distant, haunted look. _Curious. Very curious._

"Were you able to gain the White Fang's support?" Roman asked as he lit a cigar.

"No," said Cinder tersely.

"Ah. Well, not like we needed the mangy mutts. I take it you're hiring some gang leaders or mercenaries instead?"

"Those are no longer options."

"Huh?" said Roman in surprise. "Did something happen? I know you have the money."

"I lost a suitcase full of most of my lien in an unexpected forest fire. And then I was cut off from my accounts for…failing to meet performance goals," Cinder said with some difficulty.

"Hold up." Roman rubbed his aching head. "Why did you carry all of your cash in a single briefcase into hostile territory in the first place? That's just begging for it to get lost or stolen."

Cinder mumbled something so softly that Roman was unable to hear her. The tanned doormat patted her back reassuringly.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?" he prompted.

"…It was for dramatic effect."

_Oof, poor girl_. Roman knew that feel.

"Long story short, we don't have the money to _buy_ a private army anymore," Mercury interjected. "We were hoping you could do something to fix that."

_Of all the times to be on retainer…_

"What did you have in mind?" said Roman, slightly exasperated.

"You're charismatic."

"You're observant. Your point?"

"Con the local White Fang cells into joining our cause. You keep telling us you're some kind of amazing scam artist. Prove it." Mercury crossed his arms.

Roman frowned. "I'm good, but there's a limit to what I can do. The White Fang are racial zealots. They're not going to follow a human like me without their own leadership promoting the partnership."

"You're a human?" the red-eyed wench said in surprise. "But…all this time. I'm so sorry, I thought you were a donkey faunus."

"Hardy har har. I'm a jackass, I get it." Roman took a drag on his cigar. Did people really think they were being original when they made that joke? "Listen, Cinder, I'm more than happy to help, but I'm a thief first and foremost. Isn't there anything you want me to, y'know, _steal_? More dust, maybe?"

"No," Cinder shook her head, regaining some of her lost composure. "Without a large labor force my plan for all this dust is useless. It might be better to fence it for money, now that I think about it."

_All my hard work…thrown away for a quick buck? _Well, that's just how the world was he supposed. Not like it was his decision.

"For now, I need to scout out Beacon and come up with a new plan. Stay out of trouble, and start converting this dust into cash. Say, 80% or so? We'll call when we have something else for you to do." Cinder turned to leave with her underlings in tow.

Roman fell into step beside them, trying to prolong the conversation. "You know, you keep making opaque references to these plans and objectives of yours. I could help more if you didn't keep me in the dark about everything."

Cinder gave him an uninterested side-glance. "All will be clear in time, Roman."

_Hmph, no trust in this relationship. _Not that he blamed her. He wouldn't trust himself either.

"Right, right. Take care then." He waved his cane after them. When they left the building he stood there alone, deep in thought.

All this secrecy and their desire to recruit a band of terrorists painted an interesting picture. Roman started to suspect his employers were plotting the downfall of modern civilization. He wished them the best of luck. The way things were going, they would need it.

Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. It had been so long since he had stolen something for himself for a change, and Cinder had only told him to stay out of trouble. That meant so long as he didn't get arrested, and got her the money she wanted, he could do anything. _Right?_

Roman regarded the map of Vale he had tacked up on the wall. Once upon a time, he had dreamed of leaving this city in awe of his brilliance. Ever since he was a child he knew there was but one path forward for him in life: keep his passions burning; become a torch in the night.

Society was not happy with his conclusions, if the multiple charges of arson had anything to say on the matter. _Oversensitive pricks_, he mentally grumbled. _Not my fault those banks weren't up to fire-safety code, and it's not like anyone got hurt. Much._

All the same, he had never really had a choice. He had paid the price for knowing what he was. He paid for it in spades and pocket change, just as he paid for his cane and his suit. To deny his whims was to become apathetic to them, and he had seen first-hand what apathy could do.

Roman reached into his pocket, letting his fingers brush against a sharp cardstock edge. It was a last memento from his childhood on Brunswick Farm—something that he always carried yet could no longer bring himself to look at. It hurt too much to try. This wasn't the life his parents had wanted for him, but dwelling on that would change nothing. He reached deeper and pulled out his scroll.

Toking his cigar, Roman flicked through the recent news on RemNet. Mercury and the street-rat's jabs at his abilities left a bad taste in his mouth. If he was going to do some recreational crime, it would have to be a real showstopper. Something that would leave civvies gossiping and authorities scratching their heads. Something to remind the people of Vale that Roman Torchwick wasn't just a petty crook who stole dust, but a knave of the highest caliber. An artist.

Roman stopped his perusing when he came across a certain article. _Hmmm, this might be a worthy target. _It would take a lot of planning and a few preliminary heists, but if he could pull it off, it would land him in the history books.

Torchwick sat in the abandoned warehouse late into the night, blowing rings of smoke into the air and scheming all the while. There was suddenly so much work to do.

/ - /

Lie Ren was a man of few words. He believed talking disrupted the mind, which made unclear the enlightened path. Words should be wielded like a subtle knife: swift, precise, and used as seldom as possible.

"REN! They have all you can eat breakfast here!" Nora carried over a plate stacked high with pancakes.

Ren simply nodded. Words were unnecessary here.

"So, as I was saying, I hope we end up on the same team together!"

"I wouldn't count on it, if I were you," a burly young man with brown hair piped up from a few seats down. "There are a lot of initiates, and we don't know how teams are formed."

_Hmm, a good point_. Still no need for Ren to say anything. Nora would follow-up for him.

"But what if we bribed the Headmaster? That could work, right?"

The armored youth leaned back in his chair. "No, I don't think so. What do any of us have that Ozpin would want? Blackmail, on the other hand..."

"Hmmm…you have a good point. Ren! You're basically a ninja. Go steal some incriminating blackmail material from Ozpin's office," commanded Nora.

Words might be necessary here, but he tried giving her an unamused look first.

"Wait! No, there's no time. Initiation starts in an hour. It would take at least two to navigate all his traps and defenses. Drat." Nora snapped her fingers angrily.

Ren doubted such traps existed, and even if they did, they would take him _at most _a half hour to circumvent. He wasn't an amateur.

Naturally he kept this to himself.

"You're easily worked up, aren't you?" the other boy interrupted Nora's mad chain of logic. "Name's Cardin, by the way."

"I'm Nora! And this is Ren. And of course we're worked up! We've been together—not together-together, mind you—for basically forever. We _need_ to be on the same team. Look! Just the thought of us being apart is driving Ren to the verge of tears!"

Ren gave Cardin a blank stare, his face utterly neutral.

"Right…" said Cardin. "I don't really care who's on my team, so long as they can kick ass. I'd prefer no disgusting animals though."

Nora froze, half a pancake in her mouth.

_Ah, and it had been such a pleasant morning too. Maybe he misspoke? Nora will surely ask._

"What do you mean by that?" said Nora. She probably meant to be intimidating, but the half-chewed food muffling her voice ruined the effect.

"You know, faunus. Animals. I wouldn't want any on my team," Cardin chuckled to himself.

Alas, the time for words had finally come. It was for moments like these that Ren jealously saved and prepared them. He would first use his words to spare this man his unbroken legs. Then he would set him on a more righteous path.

Ren inhaled deeply, drawing on the unfathomable well of charisma that he took such pains to hide: "A—"

"CARDIN!" a raven-haired girl shouted from farther down the table. "Say something like that again and, like, we'll have a serious problem."

"Oh, not you again! Listen you bitch, I don't care if you're a special snowflake. You're not the boss of me."

"Whatever. Just take your racism and fuck off. No one here wants to hear it."

Cardin stared at the girl for a moment before turning back towards Nora and Ren. When Nora cracked her knuckles he muttered something rude under his breath, picked up his tray, and walked away.

Ren sighed. _I guess I didn't need to say anything after all. _That was fine. His day would come.

"Gods, I hate people like him. Bullies are the worst," the girl got up and walked over to Ren and Nora. "My name's Melanie. Was he, like, bothering you?"

"Nah, I could have taken him," said Nora. "Thanks though. I'm Nora, and this is Ren."

Ren nodded slightly in greeting.

"Hi," said Melanie. "Man, for a huntsman academy there are more pricks here than I expected."

"Are there more people like that guy?"

"I haven't ran into other racists, but there is a girl named Yang who, like, totally destroyed the club my sister works at. She also beat up my sister when she tried to get her to leave."

_Hmm…how unpleasant. _Ren made a mental note to avoid this "Yang" person. Nora was violence enough in his life.

"Oooh! Do you want help breaking her legs?"

_Case in point._

"Ha! I seriously appreciate the thought, but I don't want to start trouble," Melanie smiled. "I'm glad there are at least _some_ reasonable people at this school."

Of course Ren didn't say anything to correct her, but if someone listened _very_ carefully, they might have heard him groan. Just a little.

/ - /

If someone asked Pyrrha how her time at Beacon was going, she would call it a mixed bag. Most everyone was too afraid to approach her and, excluding one person, those who did wanted her autograph. It didn't help that the one exception, Weiss Schnee, wanted to recruit Pyrrha onto her team.

Then Weiss followed Pyrrha around for the rest of the afternoon, the evening, the night, and the morning since waking up. Pyrrha was unhappy about this arrangement at first, but she realized Weiss was just trying to be friends. The attempt was misguided, but she couldn't judge someone for being a socially stunted as a result of fame and high expectations. The two had a lot in common in that regard.

Besides, Weiss wasn't so bad. She came off as haughty, but she had opened up about her insecurities and such over the course of the night. Her upbringing sounded less than ideal, and Pyrrha honestly admired Weiss's desire to follow in her grandfather's footsteps.

All the same, the girl could stand to give her some space.

Weiss was actually plotting maniacally next to her, even now. Probably about the two of them becoming the most famous huntresses in all of Remnant, or something like that. Pyrrha had been tuning her out since breakfast.

"Uh, excuse me, that's my locker," a voice broke Pyrrha out of her stupor.

"Oh, sorry!"

As the boy pushed past her, his blue eyes met her green. Or, no, not actually. His eyes were focused on her forehead?

"I don't think we've met," the rugged blonde held out his hand with a flourish. "The name's Jaune Arc, and I happen to be a natural blonde. Perchance," he smiled charmingly, "are you a natural redhead?"

Pyrrha couldn't help but giggle at the goofy introduction. "Yes, I am. And hello! I'm Pyrrha."

"Pyrrha?" the boy's eyes lit up in recognition, which made her want to cry. Was there anyone in this school who didn't recognize her?

"Any relation to Pyrrho, the ancient Mistralian philosopher?" he asked.

"Huh?" That was certainly unexpected. Maybe he didn't know who she was after all. "I…I don't think so. Was his last name Nikos?"

Jaune frowned. "No, Pyrrho's region of Mistral didn't use last names when he was alive. That custom was picked up from Vale and Mantle a few centuries afterwards."

"That seems awfully silly. How would you know who anyone was without a last name?" Weiss interjected.

_Shush, woman. This is the first person besides you who didn't want my autograph. Can't you give me this?_ Pyrrha complained.

"Last names aren't that important," Jaune dismissed. "Speaking of names, yours is…?"

"Weiss _Schnee_."

"Weiss then," Jaune said with a nod, which left Weiss fuming at the apparent slight. He turned back to Pyrrha. "They referred to each other by where they were from, like 'Pyrrho of Elis'…"

"Oh, so Jaune of Arc then?" Pyrrha smirked.

"Don't be silly. That makes my name sound made-up and ridiculous." Jaune snapped a set of canisters to his belt and checked that his sword was fastened securely. "Anyway, Pyrrho taught that no knowledge could be held with absolute certainty. Pretty sure the Headmaster was quoting him in yesterday's speech. Doesn't surprise me that Ozpin's read about him too."

Even Weiss nodded in agreement at that comment. It was well known that the Headmaster had been a prodigy in his youth, being possessed of a highly detailed knowledge of history.

"You seem awfully well read yourself," remarked Pyrrha.

"I thought I was. Feels like I know less and less every day," he said a bit bitterly. "I only knew about Pyrrho because I was a fan of his work."

"As interesting of a tangent as this was, do you not know who Pyrrha is?" said Weiss. "Or me? Do you not know who I am either?"

"Do you know who _I_ am?" replied Jaune. Pyrrha and Weiss looked at each other, and then shook their heads no.

"Exactly. But we just met, so isn't that to be expected?" he tut-tutted, as if they were missing something obvious.

_Should I have heard of Jaune before? _Pyrrha racked her brain, but came up with nothing.

"But she won the Mistral tournament four years in a row!" Weiss pointed at Pyrrha. "And I'm the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company!"

"Weiss, really, it's fine." Even after spending the past 24 hours glued to Pyrrha's side, Weiss still hadn't caught on to Pyrrha's desire to remain unnoticed.

"Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company?" Jaune regarded Weiss skeptically. "Well, isn't that a coincidence. If you're not pulling my leg, I want to talk to you after initiation. I have some grievances with the SDC that I would like explanations for."

"Wha…how _dare_…the nerv—," Weiss stuttered. As prideful as she was, she became a flustered mess when her family's company was called into question.

"And you." He turned to Pyrrha. "Tournament fighting…is that at all like professional wrestling?"

"I guess, in a sense," said Pyrrha slowly. It was a strange comparison but not inaccurate. His gaze shifted to her feet, and he muttered something she couldn't quite make out—something about high heels and promotional gimmicks?

When Jaune looked up, his eyes were full of pity. "I'm sorry, that must have been really demeaning. It was brave of you to come here, given your prior combat experience."

"Huh?"

"From what I know, partnerships are randomized. I hope you have some good people on your team."

"Randomized!?" Weiss cracked like a broken mirror.

_Good people, huh?_ This Jaune person didn't seem so bad, if a bit strange. "Even if it's randomized, wouldn't you like to be on a team with me?" asked Pyrrha.

"It's not that I don't want to. The exact opposite in fact! It's just my…my fighting ability. How do I say this?" Jaune stared up at the ceiling, searching for a diplomatic answer. "It's probably the same as yours, if you know what I mean," he gave Pyrrha a meaningful look and jerked his eyes over towards Weiss, who was going catatonic.

"I see." Her face fell as she realized what he was saying. "You're worried that the team would be unbalanced."

"I'm glad you understand," Jaune hung his head in shame. "Nothing personal of course. And regardless of how teams work out, we can still be friends?" He raised his eyes, hopeful.

"That would be grand, actually. Thank you." Pyrrha brightened a little. The team thing was disappointing, but friends was still pretty good. Now she had two.

"My pleasure. Anyway, I better go. Nice meeting you Pyrrha, Weiss." He nodded at the two girls and made to leave.

"Likewise!" Pyrrha called after him.

Weiss said nothing, having shut down completely halfway through the conversation. It took a few seconds for her to reboot. "Just who does that blonde doofus think he is?" she said mechanically on startup.

"Oh, you don't know?" A girl with tired eyes and a red cape walked up to them. "That 'blonde doofus' is a top initiate—one of the special recruits hand-selected by Ozpin." She gave Weiss a smile that was filled with resignation, regret, pride, and cruelty all at once. "Of which there are only four. Do _you_ happen to be one, princess?"

"Huh?" said Pyrrha. Then she heard a thud next to her. Looking down, she found her friend lying on the floor.

_Just great_, Pyrrha sighed._ She broke Weiss._


	4. Chapter 4: The Giving Tree

**AN: Yo, it's been awhile. I originally planned on doing Initiation all in one chapter, but it kind of got out of hand. There are so many character-establishing moments here that Jaune has to share the spotlight a little, and that adds a lot of length. Thus I've split Initiation in two. The good news is this first half is a whopping 9.3K words. Hopefully that makes up for the long wait. I'm already 5K words into the second half, so the next chapter shouldn't take anywhere near as long to come out. Then again, you should maybe be a bit _skeptical_ of what I say. *wink wink nudge nudge***

**Beta: Bitter End**

* * *

**Jaune the Skeptic — Chapter 4: "The Giving Tree"**

Jaune breathed in the cool morning air. The sky was blue and the sun had just cleared the horizon. It was a beautiful day to die.

He wished he had time to enjoy it, but there was work to be done.

After making sure there was no one around, he hammered a set of pitons into the ground and threw a large coil of rope over the side of the cliff. He covered these with a thicket of bushes he had "borrowed" from a courtyard. The hedge had been sculpted into a portly man with a carefully manicured mustache for whatever reason. Despite the obvious care that had gone into its creation it hadn't really fit in with the rest of the landscaping. Jaune figured that he did the groundskeeper a favor when he dismantled it with Crocea Mors.

Satisfied that his climbing equipment was hidden, he scrambled to the last launching pad. Jaune had meant to wake up early to implement his "landing strategy," but he had stayed up so late making preparations that he overslept. _I also shouldn't have spent so much time chatting in the locker room, I suppose. _Hopefully he could finish before other people showed up. If he didn't, he would blame that sultrily dressed wrestler girl.

After talking with Ruby late into the night, the pair concluded that Jaune's aura could tank the fall. It was just a matter of activating his defense reliably. He even got some last-minute practice in when Ruby pushed him off the balcony. Truly, he had been blessed with the most thoughtful of friends.

Even so, Jaune wasn't the sort of person who could put his life in the hands of a pseudo-mystical soul power he discovered yesterday. His dad's forewarning gave him the opportunity to make other plans. He made use of it.

Leveraging his blade like a crowbar, he lifted up the platform. If he destroyed the pneumatics, he could compromise the launch. While everyone else flew through the air, Jaune would be stuck on the ground, safe and sound. From there he could convince the headmaster to let him find his own, alternate means down the cliff. Like a conveniently placed climbing rope. Not a foolproof plan, but it was the safest option. That's why it was Plan A.

"Oh, a student. You're here early."

_Shit_. Jaune turned and hid Crocea Mors behind his back. He was met face-to-face with the new professor that Ozpin had introduced yesterday. Her amber eyes regarded him curiously. _Curse you Nikos, you vixen! This is your fault._

"Has Professor Goodwitch made the announcement already? Not even the headmaster is here yet." The brunette surveyed the empty cliffside.

"I'm just…very punctual, I guess." Plan A was out. Plan B, however, had just become viable. "My name is Jaune Arc. You're the new dust studies teacher, right? Professor Autumn?"

"Err…yeah, that's me." She gave him an awkward smile. "I don't think I could get used to that name though. Just call me Amber."

"Don't like being called professor?"

"Yeah, the professor part. That's what I meant." She coughed.

Jaune narrowed his eyes. Something was off about this woman, but he would worry about that later. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

"Hey, random academic question for you," he said. "About how many milligrams of granulated wind dust would one need to lift a fully grown adult male? Assuming you activated it kinetically against a flat surface, like a shield."

Amber's forehead creased. "I'm not sure I can answer that."

Jaune's heart sank, and Plan B along with it. He had hoped the new professor wasn't a stickler for rules on account of her youth. _Maybe if I rephrased the question?_

"Let me put it another way." He opened up a canister on his belt and pulled out a green vial. "If, hypothetically speaking, someone used this much dust after being catapulted from a cliff about as high as the one we're standing on, would he survive?"

"That's…err, listen, that's not the problem here," she stammered. Jaune made a pleading look, which caused her to avert her eyes skyward and make one of her own. A crow cawed ominously above them, as if it were greatly amused by their mutual distress. "T-that person would be okay…I think?"

"That's a relief." Jaune let out a heavy breath. "Thanks Professor. Uh, sorry, _Amber_. For answering my dumb hypothetical question, I mean." He had probably put her in a difficult position, asking for help right before what was essentially a second entrance exam. He was thankful that Plan B was a go though, because he really didn't want to rely on Plan C. The plans were ordered alphabetically by the likelihood of inflicting bodily harm, but he also liked to think of the "C" as standing for "crash."

"So long as it's hypothetical, you're welcome." She rubbed her head and then glanced at his belt. "Are all of those canisters filled with dust? You must be pretty good with the stuff if you carry around so much of it."

"All except one of them." The right-most container held Plan F—which wasn't a landing strategy, but rather an insurance plan. He had only thought to make it after talking to Ruby the night before, so it wasn't completely dry yet. "To be honest I'm a novice when it comes to dust. I just happen to have a lot for reasons I'd rather not get into."

"Oh." Amber blinked. She stiffly walked to the edge of the cliff and looked over. "How far down do you suppose the ground is?"

"A little over 200 feet." His standard-length climbing rope hadn't touched the bottom, but it was close enough. Since that plan was a wash he was focused on more important things, like retying his left boot. He had to skip every other eyelet in a zig-zag to account for his shortened lace. He prayed that it wouldn't come undone.

The young woman looked back and saw his fidgeting. "Are you nervous?" she asked, her own voice tinged with anxiety.

"Probably not as much as I should be. I'm not sure if it was intentional, but Headmaster Ozpin gave us all a major advantage."

"And what's that?"

Jaune stood, his eyes sweeping over the Emerald Forest. Four months. For four months he had tempered himself, alone, in the crucible of the wild. He had cried tears of blood. He had wallowed in the dissolving corpses of his enemies, screaming in agony from the strain that fighting inhuman monstrosities put on his body.

Yet he survived. Made fire. Found shelter in hollow trunks. Lived off apples and walnuts when his food ran out. He carved spears from branches, since throwing his sword always seemed to end poorly. He slept high above the ground on beds of leaves, where the wind cradled him to sleep under the light of the shattered moon.

And here he was, at Beacon. At the precipice of making his dream a reality.

He reached into his pocket, his hand grasping upon Sosostris's infernal card. The Ace of Swords. The physical reminder that he was a skeptic—that he didn't believe in magic or fairytales or destiny. Jaune Arc could not accept such childishly comforting ideas. He doubted a true portrait of the world was anything but cruel and uncaring. He doubted there was even a single drop of sunshine or magic on the canvas.

But Jaune also doubted he would die this day. No. He would not be made carrion for the frankly annoying crow that circled above his head. He refused.

Things were different now. He had allies—allies that had given him all the advantages he needed to defeat the Grimm. It sounded silly, but his soul itself seemed to vibrate in testament to this fact. Even if this forest was full of monsters, he would have nothing to fear as he walked underneath its shade, for he would not be alone.

A recent memory swirled in his mind's eye: a vision of red, and yellow too. It was strange that they weren't here yet, beside him under the longstanding gaze of autumn. But he could still answer the professor's question with confidence. That he would be with stalwart friends once the test began was an unassailable truth.

"The forest," said Jaune, his voice burning with conviction. "The forest is full of trees."

"…Come again?"

/ - /

Headmaster Ozpin was surprised to find people had beaten him to the Beacon cliffs. Amber, her bodyguard, and the young Mr. Arc were all there already. The new teacher and student were conversing pleasantly about life on the road. Good. Amber had been more than a little apprehensive about becoming a teacher, but she seemed to be settling into the role nicely.

Ozpin nodded once each to the three parties present and took his place at the edge of the cliff, sipping hot cocoa as he admired the view.

Glynda joined him not long afterwards, a stream of students trailing behind her. He felt a slight pang of guilt when he caught sight of Ruby Rose mixed among them. Since Qrow was on permanent leave from Signal, Beacon was the safest place for her now. She was also a certifiable combat prodigy, though he hadn't considered that much when he offered her admission. Someone with no prior combat experience could probably sneak into the first year and get by, provided they were sufficiently motivated and a little insane. Not that that would ever happen, of course.

The girl looked wary at the sight of Mr. Arc in conversation with Professor Autumn. After a few seconds of deliberation, she went to the farthest unoccupied platform away from the pair.

Ozpin raised a brow. _Curious. Very curious. Has something transpired between Ms. Rose and Mr. Arc, I wonder?_

He would have to look into the matter later. After all, amusing himself with the tribulations of his students was one of the greatest joys of being an educator. And he had been an educator for a very, very long time.

It all began over a thousand years ago. During one of his more troubled incarnations Ozpin had taken to ranting about his life problems in public spaces. Naturally this earned him a following of fervent disciples. How those idiots mistook his existential crisis for a legitimate philosophy, he could only guess, but it _had_ given him the chance to further one of his goals: a search for a certain person that was still ongoing, even a millennium hence.

Though his searches had proven fruitless, he had been quite content playing philosopher. But alas, no good thing lasted forever. Everything changed one fateful autumn morning, when he fell from a cliff while delivering a lecture. Blindfolded.

A historic occasion, to be sure. It was on that day that Ozpin invented the landing strategy.

In the aftermath his disciples followed him everywhere he went, as they were convinced his disbelief had grown to such extremes that he would walk in front of a carriage or off another cliff. It was annoying. Trip one time in the middle of a rhetorical point about distrusting the senses and suddenly everyone thinks you're suicidal. He might not have been in the _best_ state of mind, but they didn't have to baby him. _μωροι κύνες_. _οὐ παραφρονῶ_.

Not long afterwards Ozpin started throwing students off of cliffs—a proud tradition that continued to this very day. That certainly showed _them _for doubting his sanity.

He felt a nudge on his shoulder from Glynda. _ἆρα πάντες νυν πάρεστιν;_

"ὦ μαθηταί! νά τώ θεὼ φρουρὰν ἄζηλον ὀχήσω," Ozpin declared in a deep voice, spreading his arms in benediction. "ῥίψω γὰρ τήμερον ὑμᾶς ἐκ τῆς πέτρας. ποιεῖτε τοῦτο ἳνα μοι ἀρέσκητε. καί ἡδέως θεάσομαι τοῦτο ἀθλιωτάτον ἆθλον."

Another sharp nudge from Glynda. _τί βούλεσθε, ὦ δούλη;…οἴμοι_._ Shit._

"Wise words from an ancient philosopher, which felt appropriate given the occasion." He smoothly switched to the correct language. "I'm sure many of you have been wondering about partners and teams, so allow me to put the rumors to rest. You will know your partner by the day's end. They will be your colleague and confidante in the brutal struggle that is the next four years of your life. In light of this, partners will be selected according to that ineffable force that binds us all together—the very thing that has kept civilization standing strong against the countless waves of Grimm that beset our world…"

Ozpin paused to reflect on the irony of it all. The same thing that had caused all the tragedy of the past was also their best hope for the future. He put his hand on his heart and looked over his students. His students and their humble, honest souls. A tear slid down his cheek.

"Is…is it love, sir?" one of them asked.

"No, Mr. Lark. It's random chance."

Glynda jabbed him in the side. There were groans and whispers, but none of the comically exaggerated reactions he had hoped for. In fact, he saw some students—Mr. Arc among them—nodding, as if they expected this outcome.

_Did someone tell them already? That's no fun. _Ozpin would have to remind the older students and staff not to reveal information about Initiation next year. If he couldn't get a chuckle or two out of catching students unawares, what was the point? It's not like there was anything _actually_ dangerous in the forest.

"The first person you make eye contact with will be your partner, no exceptions," he said with much less enthusiasm. "Hidden in the forest is a temple containing a set of relics. These are your objectives. Each set of partners is to retrieve one of these relics and then return to the top of the cliff. You will be watched and graded throughout the exercise." Normally he would have added a foreboding comment or two, but his heart just wasn't in it anymore. "Are there any questions?"

Mr. Arc and Ms. Schnee looked like they were about to speak up, but both decided against it. They joined the others in assuming ready positions on the launch pad.

"Very well then." Ozpin took out his scroll. Usually he began the launches at the far end, but since Mr. Arc seemed more ready than the other side the headmaster decided to start with him.

A button was pressed. Mechanical gears whirled underneath all the platforms. Then, one by one, the primed pneumatics activated. Bodies sailed into the sky.

Initiation had begun.

"Headmaster?"

"Yes, Glynda?" said Ozpin.

"What even _was_ the beginning of that speech?"

Ozpin gazed at the flying students wistfully. "Nostalgia, dear Glynda. Nostalgia."

/ - /

One second passed. Then two. Then three. Jaune waited as he approached the apex of his trajectory. He needed to activate the wind dust at the precise right moment to control his descent. Allegedly if he knew how to manipulate dust using his aura he wouldn't have to worry about such fine timing. He could get around that though.

Granulated dust didn't have a high activation barrier, so smashing the vial against his shield would impart more than enough kinetic energy to overcome it. Then it was just a matter of angling the surface of his shield correctly to control the resulting thrust. Simple. Elegant. Newfangled aura not required.

As Jaune soared through the air he was reminded of a book he had read as a boy. It claimed that the goal of ancient skepticism was to achieve an imperturbable mind—one that no dilemma, lie, or trauma could assail. The ultimate poker face, if you will. Pyrrho hadn't screamed when _he_ fell through the skies.

"AAAAAAAAA—"

Jaune was not Pyrrho. According to historical accounts, the philosopher's voice had been smooth. Deep. Jaune's voice, on the other hand, was high and wheezy. His scream sounded a little girlish, if he was being honest.

"—AAAAAAAAA—"

His life flashed before his eyes. Since it was disappointingly boring, Jaune instead mentally cataloged all the fellow initiates he had met. Who did he want to be partners with?

Pyrrha, bless her heart, was right out.

He did feel sympathy for the poor girl. Jaune couldn't imagine spending years surrounded by showbiz-grade phonies, like she must have. He admired her tenacity—so much so that he had practically already forgiven her for ruining Plan A. And no, her having red hair had nothing to do with it. Absolutely nothing at all.

The problem was that Jaune himself was already a walking liability. His team didn't need two.

In contrast Yang seemed like a natural fighter, but that came with baggage of its own. He didn't necessarily believe the rumors about her, but regardless of their veracity she had a reputation. Reputations drew scrutiny. Scrutiny was bad.

He hadn't gotten much of an impression of Weiss, other than she was a little inarticulate. She hardly spoke at all earlier, and when she did speak she either stuttered or looked deeply upset. Hopefully she would be more talkative later, when they discussed the SDC and its questionable business practices.

Blake was a wildcard if ever there was one. His current theory was that the "special recruit" label was Ozpin's way of isolating suspect persons from the rest of the student body. She could be anything from an ex-terrorist to a famous politician's daughter for all Jaune knew. Or worse: she could be a blundering incompetent who forged their way into the school, like him. Too risky.

No, to counterbalance his own ineptitude Jaune required a certified prodigy. His ideal partner would have proven talent, mesh with him on a personal level, and be willing to keep his secrets. But did such an individual exist?

…

_Probably not_, he decided after a moment's thought. A partner who fit that description sounded far too convenient. Knowing his luck he would be stuck with Pyrrha.

"—AAAAAAAAA—"

_Still…Pyrrha, Yang, Weiss, Blake. Aren't I forgetting somebody? _As he idly screamed and pondered this question, he felt a growing itch in his right hand.

Almost involuntarily, his fingers twitched.

/ - /

Ruby had been having a good day. They had cookies at breakfast. Jaune hadn't bothered her with inane questions since last night, and he had disappeared this morning to make preparations. She had even gotten back at Weiss for yelling at her.

When she saw the Ice Queen's head spinning in the wake of Jaune's insanity, Ruby couldn't resist landing the finishing blow. She didn't mean to knock the girl out cold though—not to say it wasn't cathartic. Enjoyable, even. She was actually frightened by how much she liked it. _This intoxicating feeling…is this what Yang feels? Have I been corrupted?_

Ruby resolved to apologize to Weiss after Initiation. She didn't want to be a bully.

Speaking of bullies, Ruby had magnanimously decided to let Yang be her partner, despite the latter's sullied reputation. Truly, Yang had been blessed with the most thoughtful of little sisters.

Jaune…well, she was sure he could find a partner on his own. Ruby worried for the blonde doofus, but she couldn't protect him forever. Even if it pained her, the mother bird eventually needed to push the children from the nest. Let them fly with their own two wings, so to speak.

When a vortex of green energy propelled a familiar blonde into her flight path, Ruby wondered if mother birds ever dealt with her problems. Did _their _children smuggle a highly unnecessary vial of wind dust onto their inaugural flight? Dust that propelled 200lbs of birdbrain slamming right back into them?

She watched helplessly as a crow was knocked from the sky by Jaune's flailing shield. Overcome by a mysterious feeling of kinship with the avian, she screamed out: "BIRDIE, NO!"

Those were her last words before she and Jaune collided, sending them both into an uncontrollable tailspin. In her disoriented state all Ruby could do was hold onto Crescent Rose and keep her aura up. And join Jaune in screaming, of course. "—AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The world transformed into branches and leaves. She tumbled through the forest canopy until a thud signaled her impact with the ground.

At long last, all was still.

"Ugh." Ruby groaned. She ached all over, but thanks to her aura she hadn't sustained any injuries. At least she landed on something soft, even if there wasn't much strategy involved.

"Uuuuggghhh." Another voice groaned beneath her.

_Oh._

"Doesn't count! Doesn't count! Doesn't count!" She shut her eyes and rolled off Jaune's body.

"Ruby, is that you?" he asked. Ruby heard him get up off the ground. "Of course, how could I forget you!? You're absolutely perfe—uh, why are you covering your eyes?"

"Just rubbing them, don't mind me. I think something got in them when we collided. Stray bit of wind dust, maybe?" There was an accusation in her words.

"Heheheh, sorry. I didn't mean to fly into you like that…"

"Riiiiiight. Why were you using dust at all though? That wasn't part of Plan A!"

"I managed to set up the rope, but Amber found me before I could sabotage the launching pad."

"What are you talking about? The climbing rope was Plan C."

"But wait, what was Plan A then?" he asked in confusion.

"Aura!" Ruby snapped. "'A' stands for 'aura.' 'C' stands for 'climb.'"

"Then what did the 'B' of Plan B stand for?"

"There was no Plan B!" she said, stomping. "At no point did we discuss a Plan B. If we're talking about that stunt you just pulled though, I would say the 'B' stood for 'brainless!' That was a stupidly large amount of wind dust you used, Jaune. You could have gotten hurt!"

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh.'" Ruby grumbled. "Where did you get that much dust anyway? I thought you were broke."

"Would you believe me if I said I tripped over a suitcase full of the stuff while running from a forest fire?"

"No."

"Ah. Well, I'm not sure what to tell you then."

They stood there for a long moment, saying nothing.

"Ruby?" Jaune broke the silence first.

"Yeah?"

"Are you keeping your eyes closed on purpose?"

"Oh, you noticed that?" She shifted uncomfortably, her eyes firmly clenched shut.

"You might not be able to see right now, but I can," he said with a snort. "Listen, I'm sorry about ignoring your plan. I…I wasn't confident that I could land safely with aura alone. Even after the practice we got in last night."

Ruby hid her reddening face behind the undeployed form of Crescent Rose. Did he really have to bring up her pushing him off the balcony?That was a moment of weakness!

"You don't want to be partners with me, do you?" he asked.

Trembling, she nodded her head.

Ruby had learned something since meeting Jaune: being responsible for someone's safety was hard. You didn't get to just ignore your problems and sit around all day, drinking hot cocoa. Knowing Jaune, it would be a matter of months before he stumbled into a shadow war against terrorists plotting the downfall of modern civilization, or something equally dumb. And whoever was his partner would have to keep him safe when that happened. The past 24 hours had been hard enough on Ruby. She wasn't sure she could handle four whole years' worth of stress and worry.

"Please…please don't hate me," she said in a small voice.

"It's fine. I don't blame you. I wouldn't want to be partners with someone like me either." He sounded like a kicked puppy. "If we separated here though, what's to stop us from running into each other again? You might even run into someone worse than me."

"Like who?" she asked.

"I don't know. Pyrrha Nikos?"

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"No? But that doesn't really matter right now. You can't keep your eyes shut forever."

"Pfff, says you. Just watch me." This would be easy. Ruby hadn't been admitted to Beacon two years early for nothing. She could do Initiation with her eyes closed, no problem. She confidently strode forward.

"That's the wrong way."

"Oh." She stopped. Maybe this would be harder than she thought.

"Anyway, what I was about to say was this: I can guide you, if you want. At least until we run into somebody else."

"You'd do that for me?"

"Sure. I did say I'd pay you back for all the help you've given me. An Arc's word is their bond." He paused. Ruby imagined he was scratching the back of his head, as he so often did when he was acting awkward. "And even if I didn't owe you a favor—" Ruby coughed loudly. "—several favors, sorry. Even if that wasn't the case, I'd still do this for you."

"Why?"

"Because we're friends," he said softly. "I want you to be happy. If having someone other than me as your partner will do that, then I'll do everything in my power to make it happen."

"Do…do you really mean that?" Ruby stared up at him, her silver eyes glistening.

"Of course. Just don't come crying to me when you end up with Pyr—oh, uh, did you…mean to…?"

"What? Is something wrong?" She blinked. And then she blinked again. "Oh…"

/ - /

Pyrrha smashed through several tree branches to slow her momentum before hitting the forest floor in a three-point landing.

Though Jaune had been right to say that partner selection was randomized, the eye contact clause afforded a lot of wiggle room. Pyrrha could have easily chosen anyone to be her partner, including Weiss or Jaune. They just wouldn't have been willing participants in the "choosing" is all…

Not that it mattered. She had decided to let the chips fall where they may, and she was going to keep to that decision. Even if spearing Jaune from behind had been tempting_…that thought came out wrong._

As she began her journey through the forest Pyrrha reflected on the headmaster's words. He had used the ancient language of her ancestors. She never learned it herself since Valean Common was the lone spoken language of modern Remnant. She did, however, recognize bits and pieces of the speech. The phrase "νά τώ θεω" meant "by the two gods" and "ἆθλον" meant "contest" or "struggle." _Was he talking about Initiation? But what did gods have to do with anything?_

She eventually gave up trying to decode the speech—the grammar and vocabulary were far beyond her and she couldn't even remember the whole thing. Maybe Jaune would know what Ozpin had said; Pyrrha would ask him later. And no, she definitely wasn't using it as an excuse to talk to the boy again. Not at all.

Instead she wondered about who her partner would be. Would they be a boy or a girl? Would they be friendly? Would they ask for her autograph? Her heart pounded in anxiety at the thought.

Suddenly a high-pitched whine echoed through the forest: "Aahm~!"

Pyrrha readied Miló and Akoúō. Her body, which she had laboriously honed and trained, tensed in anticipation. This was first contact with the enemy.

"Meep~!" The sound was even closer now. _What kind of Grimm makes that noise?_ She struggled to recall, but came up with nothing. Whatever it was, it would meet its end at the edge of her xiphos blade.

A figure lowered itself from a tree branch in front of her. The _thing_ extended a limb and poked Pyrrha in the nose. "Boop."

"You're… a girl," Pyrrha said in amazement as she lowered her weapons. She had no idea human vocal cords could make such strange noises.

"I was going for 'sloth,'" the girl said as she jumped down and dusted off her pink skirt. "Is the pitch supposed to be higher? I've never heard a sloth before. Also, have you seen my friend Ren?"

"I'm not sure. Me neither. And no, you're the first person I've seen. What does your friend look like?" asked Pyrrha.

"Green robes, black hair, pink highlight. Basically a ninja?"

"…Haven't met him, I'm afraid. I'm really sorry."

"No worries. I'm off to go find him! See ya!" The girl ran into the woods without further comment.

"Good luck?" Pyrrha said to her retreating form before turning around and walking the opposite direction. What a strange person. No matter—she needed to keep looking for a partner.

She took a full three steps before she fully processed what had just happened.

"Sorry, but come back! Wait for me!" Pyrrha sprinted after…the girl. _I didn't even get her name!? Nooo!_

/ - /

Ren stared at his prey impassively. He hadn't flinched since he was a boy, and that wasn't about to change today.

Usually a Grimm the size of a fully-grown King Taijitu required a full team of student huntsmen to take down. Doubly so, considering it could attack two people at once with its twin heads. It would pose no threat to Ren, however. He could easily take on two or three Grimm simultaneously, regardless of their size.

A twig snapped at the edge of the clearing. It was too quiet for most people to hear, but Lie Ren was not most people. He shifted his eyes to find the lumbering forms of three Ursai laying in wait. Between them and the King Taijitu, five pairs of red eyes stared him down. They gleamed imperiously, as if they had already won.

_An ambush? _Ren cracked his neck and assumed the Four-Six Stance. _This might be a challenge after all_._ Good thing I'm here instead of someone else_. This would have been beyond most people, but it was not beyond him.

The Grimm snarled. Then, in unison, they attacked.

/ - /

_How could this happen!?_ Weiss huffed as she ran away from the wildfire. Apparently using fire-based attacks in the middle of a forest was a bad idea. Who knew?

To be fair, she had trained primarily on Winter's Grimm thralls. She had been unprepared for how long it took a real burning Grimm carcass to dissolve. Long enough for the underbrush to catch fire, as it turned out.

A pack of Beowolves pursued her as they also fled from the fire, but the escape of both parties ground to a halt when they encountered a sheer rock face. As fire and Grimm closed in from all sides, Weiss felt that coming to Beacon might have been a mistake. This never would have happened at Atlas. There was basically only ice, snow, and rocks there. Not a single flammable thing in sight. But noooo, she wanted to be adventurous and come to Vale.

A Beowolf charged at her while she thought these things. Pirouetting out of the way, she pierced its jugular in a counterattack. Then she spun the chamber of Myrtenaster and stabbed the rapier into the ground. An ice-infused glyph shot out spikes of ice in all directions, skewering one of the Grimm and warding the others away.

_Breath_, Weiss reminded herself. She was fine. Nothing scary about this at all. All according to her training. _Now, first position, then demi-plié._

Taking advantage of the breathing room, she prepared another set of glyphs to help her jump up the small cliff. She leapt up towards safety…

Only to lurch after reaching the first glyph.

"Aaaagggh!" Weiss screamed. One of the burning Beowolves had snuck past her ice spikes and grabbed her leg. The skin of her calf seared and began melting. Her concentration snapped, shattering the glyph and sending her tumbling back towards the ground.

The Grimm howled in delight and fury as they started to rush her. She grit her teeth and pushed herself up, slashing out wildly with her sword. She needed to get up the cliff before the fire got any closer, but the Beowolves were overwhelming her with sheer numbers.

_Relax, Weiss. Remember your training._ _Attack. Remise._ She began a dance of death against the Beowolves. _Parry the claw swipe. Riposte. _Flames crackled. She tried to summon a glyph again, but the onslaught of monsters didn't give her the chance. She was being dogpiled.

That's when she started taking hits. Aura protected her from the impacts themselves, but it did nothing to block the rising heat of the wildfire. She needed to escape. She needed to get away or she was going to burn alive.

Finally the inevitable happened. She stumbled on a bad lunge, and one of the Beowolves knocked her down. Myrtenaster fell out of her hand. In her training, this was usually the part where Winter's summons "killed" her.

Except this wasn't a training exercise. Her sister wasn't here. The reality of the situation finally set in: no one was going to help her. Not Pyrrha, not the blonde doofus, and not the 15-year-old dolt. Weiss was going to be torn to shreds and burnt to ashes, and no one was going to save her.

"Not like this…" she whispered. One of the remaining Beowolves hovered over her, its arms rising in what was sure to be a deadly blow.

A flurry of gunshots sounded above the inferno's din. The Grimm stumbled back and disintegrated.

"Hold on!" a feminine voice shouted at her. Weiss felt an arm wrap around her torso and then the familiar swing of flight. Centripetal acceleration carried her above the rock face she had failed to scale earlier. She landed on the plateau above face-first, a soft body on top of her.

"I can't believe it. Someone saved me. You saved me!" Weiss started babbling into the ground, her voice muffled by grass and dirt. She felt her eyes water—probably from all the ash in the air. Yeah. She definitely wasn't getting emotional.

"I can't believe it either. I saved a Schnee," the girl said dully.

Weiss pushed herself up and finally caught a glimpse of her hero. "You!" she cried.

"I have a name, you know. Not that someone like you would have bothered to learn it."

"Of cour—h-how dare…" she trailed off. Was she really going to act like this toward the person who saved her life? "I'm…sorry. Please, tell me your name."

Amber eyes transfixed icy blue. "Blake Belladona," the girl said. Her bow fluttered in the ash-filled wind.

"Blake, I don't know how to say this, but—" Weiss struggled for words. Damn her Schnee pride, she was going to say this properly. She took a deep breath…

And promptly fell into a coughing fit. There was a lot of smoke in the air.

"Maybe we should get away from the fire before you give me your heart-felt thanks," suggested Blake.

"I-I left my rapier down there…" Weiss croaked.

**Krboooom!**

"What was that?"

Blake looked over the edge of the rock face. "Hey, did your weapon have a lot of dust in it?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm pretty sure your rapier just exploded in the fire."

"That's…I don't know how this day could get any more humiliating." Weiss was starting to suspect her tears weren't just from the smoke. Yep, she was definitely getting emotional. "What next? Those special recruits I keep hearing about are real, and not some fabrication made to mess with me?"

Blake looked back at her uncomfortably.

"Blake…do you know something about that?"

"…"

"Blake?"

/ - /

A distance away, Amber watched the initiates flee the forest fire. She sighed and condensed a rain cloud over the forest. "Tsk, tsk," she said as she found Weiss Schnee on the evaluation roster. She would be making a note of this.

Satisfied that Amber had the problem handled, Ozpin and Glynda resumed their ongoing argument. Amber wasn't clear on the details, but it had something to do with some students Ozpin had let into the school.

"I don't really see why you're so against the boy," the headmaster said.

"Hmph, his landing strategy left much to be desired. Only an idiot would so grossly overestimate the amount of wind dust needed to break a fall." Professor Goodwitch's voice dripped with condescension.

Amber raised her hood to hide her burning ears.

"Now, now, Glynda," said Ozpin. "Both him and Miss Rose were perfectly fine. Though I think Qrow might have been knocked out in the chaos, if his radio silence is anything to go by…"

_Serves him right_, thought Amber. "_Teaching is easy," Qrow said. "First years never ask hard questions," he said. "Caw caw," he said, when I realized he tricked me. _She made a silent promise to do something nice for the blonde boy to make up for this mess. Knocking Qrow on his ass officially made Jaune Arc her new favorite student.

"Besides," Ozpin continued, "I think the question of Mr. Arc's competence was more than laid to rest by the reports that you yourself brought to my attention."

"That's…fair, I suppose. But why the Belladonna girl?"

"She had an impressive number of community service hours."

"And Melanie Malachite?"

"Possesses great potential, though it might not seem that way on paper. Simply talking to her reveals her superior moral character."

Amber squinted her eyes at her scroll. "Is nobody going to talk about the Goliath in the forest?"

"Yes! Thank you, Amber." Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jaune Arc, Blake Belladonna, and Melanie Malachite I can all understand on some level. But Headmaster, you cannot be serious about the fourth recruit! She's clearly—"

"There's no need to say it aloud, Glynda." Ozpin cut her off reproachfully. "She can become a great asset to this academy."

"Er, that's not really what I meant when I said 'Goliath in the forest,'" Amber interjected. It was chasing after a boy in bronze armor, who was somehow navigating the foliage with his eyes closed. Were elder Grimm really supposed to be part of this exercise?

"Good point, Amber," said Glynda, apparently misinterpreting the former's words. "Would she be able to participate in normal class activities? Not to mention her uncanny—"

"Glynda, enough. I understand your objections, but I have deemed all four of those students worthy of this school." There was a tone of finality in the statement that brokered no room for disagreement. "Unless…do you suspect my judgement is faulty?"

Ozpin's forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Amber had never seen him so worked up before. Even Gylnda backed off a bit.

"No, Headmaster. Of course not," said Professor Goodwitch. "Forgive me for implying otherwise."

"It's no matter," said Ozpin, a touch of sadness in his voice. "Let's just wait and see how my recruits perform. Blake Belladonna has already saved Ms. Schnee's life, after all. I suspect the others have much to reveal as well."

"Err…you two, are you seeing this?" Amber pointed at her camera feed. A shadow zoomed across the image, dismembering the elephant Grimm's legs before stabbing it in the belly over and over again. The bronze-armored boy looked on in horror as his "savior" turned to him and smiled.

Ozpin sipped hot cocoa. "See, my fourth recruit is already pulling her wei—my gods! What is she doing to Mr. Bronzewing's eye!?"

/ - /

Yang bobbed and weaved as she fought the Ursa. Up. Up. Down. Down. Left. Right. Left. Right. Counter. Attack!

The Grimm, which had already taken a significant amount of damage, started to run away.

"You're not getting away from me!" Yang's hair ignited as she lunged to finish the job. Thrusting her fist forward, the Grimm was knocked through a thicket of trees. In place of its stomach was a gaping hole bleeding black mist.

"_Tch._" She spat. "Shows you. Challenging _me_ bear-handed."

The dissolving Ursa unveiled the clearing beyond like a rising curtain. There, a green-robed man with long black hair stood over an injured Ursa of his own. Moving faster than Yang's eyes could follow, his hand fell down in a chop that split the Grimm's head from its body. His foe vanquished, the boy leaned over and gasped for air. His face was flushed and his body was drenched with sweat.

"Uh, hey," said Yang. She waved uncertainly.

He glanced at her and attempted to reign in his breathing. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he gave her a curt nod.

"Soooo, I guess this makes us partners." Yang hopped up to him. "Wow…you must be really out of shape to let a single Ursa rile you up this much. I'll have to fix that." She gave him a friendly punch on the arm.

The boy's head whipped around, as if he was looking for something behind him, but there was nothing there but scarred earth. He sighed and rubbed his arm. "You…must be Yang," he said breathily.

"How did you know?"

"…A feeling." He composed himself and gave a bow. "My name is Lie Ren, though my friend calls me Ren."

"_Friend," singular? Interesting_. She would have to ask about that later. "Yang Xiao Long. Call me Yang!"

Ren looked surprised—or, at least, as surprised as someone as unexpressive as him could look. "Xiao Long you say?"

"Yang, I say," she parroted back at him.

"No, that's not what I—" The words died in his mouth as she gave him the trademark Xiao Long smirk. "Never mind. I look forward to working with you, Yang. Shall we proceed?"

"Lead the way, partner!"

/ - /

"So, Ruby, how is Crescent Rose holding up? I didn't damage her when we fell, did I?" Jaune chatted as they walked through the forest. He held a pair of broken tree branches in one hand, which he was sharpening into makeshift spears with the edge of his sword.

"Fine, Jaune. Thanks for asking," said Ruby with a touch of sarcasm. She was cradling her scythe in her hands. "It would take a little more than that to damage _my_ baby."

"I read on RemNet that aura could be channeled through weapons to improve their durability and attack power. I don't see how that prevents normal mechanical failures though. How often do you do maintenance on her?"

"More often than you do maintenance on your sword, by the looks of it."

"My family told me Crocea Mors is indestructible."

Ruby glanced at the sword's edge, which was riddled with dents, cuts, and other imperfections. It looked like it hadn't been cared for in ages. "And you believe that?" she asked.

"Of course not. Nothing lasts forever. Give me a good whetstone though and it'll be as good as new. And Crocea Mors _does_ have the advantage of having no moving parts." He glanced down at Crescent Rose from the corner of his eye. "It probably won't break in mylifetime."

"You know, even if we put yesterday behind us, I can't let you say something like that and get away with it."

"Please don't hit me."

"I won't." Ruby frowned. Maybe she took after Yang more than she thought. "I was going to suggest a bet."

"Sure," he said. "Whoever's weapon breaks first has to do a favor of the winner's choosing?"

"Deal!"

There was a growl in the bushes ahead of them, which caught Ruby off guard. Before she could react, Jaune had already planted Crocea Mors into the ground and hurled both his spears.

A moment later, a juvenile Beowolf stumbled forward, skewered by the glorified branches. Jaune readied his sword to finish it off, but there was no need. The Grimm fell onto the forest floor and dissolved into black sludge.

"Again, Jaune? That's the third one. You could leave some for me, you know." Ruby puffed out her cheeks. His reaction time was too good. She couldn't get a kill in edgewise.

"Sorry, habit. If it helps, that usually only slows them down. Must be lucky with my aim today." He stepped forward and examined the remains of the spears. "_Tch_, both shattered again."

"Maybe you're enhancing your strength with aura?"

"Isn't that supposed to take a ton of training and practice?" He examined the branches of the nearby trees before picking one and snapping it off.

She thought about that. Jaune _had_ healed his injuries and created a defensive barrier right after his aura was unlocked. Wasn't that actually really weird?

Ruby paled. Either Jaune was secretly super talented, or those things were flukes. In the latter case, she had a feeling she knew who would be giving Jaune the "ton of training" he needed.

Letting go of that line of thinking before she started attracting Grimm, Ruby observed Jaune shaving off the twigs and leaves from his chosen branch. "You _are_ able to attack with your sword, right?" she asked. "If it's just a glorified carving knife for your throwing spears, the bet is off."

"Hey! I'm able to throw Crocea Mors pretty well too. Have some faith in me."

"Of course, my bad." She sighed. "So what next, Hunter-Man? Secure a food supply? Rub some sticks together to make fire?"

She raised her hands in surprise as something came flying towards her, which she managed to catch. "…Where did you get an apple?"

"We passed a tree a few hundred yards back. As for fire, here." Jaune tossed Ruby a small box of matches.

"Well, huh." She opened it up and looked inside. "Why are all the match heads scraped off?"

"Oh, I meant to throw that one out, sorry." He placed a hand on the last canister on his belt, as if to reassure himself of its presence. Then he dug through his pocket with his other hand and pulled out an identical box. "Here they are. See, I have more! Don't worry."

"Thank goodness. We're saved," Ruby teased, which caused Jaune to pout a little. At least he was fun to talk to. And as stubborn as he was, he never intentionally insulted or yelled at her. Now if only he stopped stealing all the kills…

"Do you know if we're going the right way? I'd rather not have to _actually_ camp out here," she said thoughtfully. "Especially since those storm clouds appeared out of nowhere."

"I'll go check where we are." He walked over to a nearby tree and leapt up, grabbing onto its lowest branch. Then he began an impressively speedy ascent to the top.

"And you're a tree-climbing expert now too? What next, magic tricks?"

"I'm in my natural element," he called down. "Also, I do know how to escape from straitjackets and how a lot of tricks work, but I don't give performances."

"Uh, then why…?"

"To spot phony magicians," he said, as if that explained everything.

Ruby was impressed with Jaune's foresight. She imagined he would get a lot of mileage out of that straitjacket knowledge in the future. "Can you see the temple?" she called up to him.

"No, but I didn't expect to. The forest is too overgrown to make out ruins from this height."

"Then why are you up there?"

"Figuring out where we are. You're not going to like it." He jumped down from the tree and showed Ruby his scroll.

"This is…a map of Emerald Forest?"

Jaune grimaced. "Most forests in Remnant are uncharted since there's no desire to settle them, and people prefer to build roads on open plains so travelers can spot Grimm from a distance. That being said, the Emerald Forest is right next to Vale. It's one of the most carefully mapped wildernesses in the world, and that includes its notable geographic and archaeological features."

"Including the forest temple Ozpin told us about?"

"Yes. It's the greyed out sections next to this ravine." He pointed at a section of the map. "Or those are the ones he probably wants us to go to. There are other ruins, but they're all much farther away from the school. And we are here, at the intersection of these three lines."

"What are those?"

"I just drew them in. This one is from the cliff in the direction we were launched. This one is from the largest buttress of Beacon tower and the tower itself, which are both visible and lined up from our position, and this last one is from these two mountain peaks, which are also lined up from our position. Which means…"

"We're 2 miles from the temple, on foot," said Ruby dejectedly.

"Yeah…we would have landed a bit closer, but our collision killed our forward momentum."

"Well, at least we know where we are and where to go. Good job?" She was honestly surprised by how reliable Jaune had been, but she supposed he had lived in the wild for four months. It made sense that he was good at this.

Jaune rubbed his neck and smiled sheepishly. "I would say thanks, but everyone else is using a map too."

"How do you know?"

"Because only idiots would stumble around the forest blindly? It's not like Ozpin told us where the temple was."

"Oh, good point." Ruby wouldn't have thought to use a map, but she wasn't about to admit that to him.

"Also, it gets worse. There's another problem."

"What?"

"I saw a plume of smoke rising from right around here." He gestured at the midpoint between them and the temple. "A wildfire, probably. Right in the middle of our path."

"Do you think it's serious?"

"Wildfires can move anywhere between 7 and 14 mph depending on the terrain, but it's raining ahead so I don't think it will spread too far. These storm clouds are a blessing. We _will_ have to take a detour to avoid it though, which will slow us down even more."

"Is there any reason to rush to the temple? We can just take our time and walk around, can't we?"

"I'm not sure." Jaune considered the idea. "Ozpin said the staff would be watching and grading us. Finishing late might come with penalties, so I'd rather not risk it."

"Another good point…" said Ruby. Jaune really made too many of them.

"You have super speed, don't you? Can you speed us both up?"

Ruby shook her head. "No. I haven't really tried carrying people with me before, but even if I could, I would run out of stamina long before I got us there."

"Do you have any ideas then? Because other than jogging there the normal way and hoping we catch up, I've got nothing."

"Give me a moment to think." She furrowed her brow in thought, but she was interrupted by a loud screech. Looking up, a dark shadow flew over the pair. It was the largest Nevermore either of them had ever seen.

"Man, what is it with me and corvids today?" Jaune complained.

"Jaune!"

"Yeah?"

"I think I have an idea."

/ - /

_Am I, like, the first one here?_ Melanie looked around the temple ruins. There were pedestals scattered throughout the area, and on top of each was an oversized chess piece. Not a single one had been taken yet.

"Like, _obviously_ I would be the first one here," she said aloud with more confidence than she felt. Melanie stepped up to a pedestal and collected a relic from it. She supposed it was a "dark horse" or something like that—having never played chess before she didn't know the actual name.

Two teenage boys in armor emerged from the forest behind her. One had long blue hair and looked oddly familiar, while the other had a mohawk and wore a spiked shoulder guard. They glanced at her briefly, but they were too absorbed in their own conversation to pay her any real attention.

"Hey, if we find Cardin and Dove we can have a team of Valean knight houses. That'd be cool," said the blue-haired boy.

_Ewww_, thought Melanie. _Cardin has friends? Just ew._

"The royal knights of Vale! It'll be just like old times," said Mohawk Kid.

"Except we don't have a king anymore, and I'm not sure any of us would make a good leader."

"Cardin, maybe?"

He ran a hand through his blue hair. "I don't know Russel. He's been acting a bit tyrannical lately. I wouldn't vote for him."

_Okay, maybe they weren't lost causes after all._

"You don't vote for monarchs, Sky."

"What method of selection would _you_ propose then? It's not like we have a convenient Sword in the Stone laying around to imbue authority with divine right."

"True, we don't have one of those. But this is basic social contract theory: we're going to obey our leader in exchange for their guidance, so there ought to be some test of character to make sure they're a good person. Because if they're a bad person we will be compelled by social contract to do bad things in accordance to their will, which doesn't sound very heroic to me."

"We could just tell them no, you know," said Sky.

Russel brushed up his mohawk as he thought that over. "But who are we to question the will of a king?" he said finally.

"You might be viewing monarchism a bit too romantically man."

"I have the heart of a knight!"

"With that hair-style?"

"It's supposed to be evocative of a plumed galea. And it's not like you have room to talk, Mr. 'love binds us together' Lark."

Oh, so _that's_ where Melanie recognized the blue-haired boy. He was the one who spoke up during Ozpin's totally weird speech.

"Laugh it up," said Sky. "If someone wants my loyalty they'll have to win my heart first, but if you want to swear fealty to the first autocrat we run into, feel free to do so."

"Yeah, yeah." Russel took a gold-colored castle statuette from one of the pedestals. "Come on, we have the relic. Let's head back."

The oddly philosophical pair retreated back into the woods. With nothing better to do, Melanie sat on a pedestal and hummed softly to herself. She wondered what Miltia was up to. Knowing her sister, she was probably just waking up right around now. Lazy bum.

It wasn't long before another figure emerged from the forest's shade.

"Ren!" Melanie jumped up and called out to the boy she had met at breakfast.

He nodded at her before grimacing and jerking his head back slightly. Looking a bit further beyond, she saw a blonde hussie was shadowing him.

_Oh. _She sighed. "Yang."

"Malachite." The bitch looked between her and Ren before shrugging and stepping past them towards the relics.

"So you're partners with her, Ren?" asked Melanie.

"Yes," he replied. She started at how deep his voice was. Come to think of it, was this the first time he had actually spoken to her? "I'm worried about how Nora will take the news."

"Yeah, well, she probably found a partner herself already," she said sullenly.

"Perhaps, but perhaps not."

"I'll, like, go look for her then…" It certainly beat hanging out here in the presence of Xiao Long.

Ren gave her a small yet encouraging smile. "Good luck."

"Yeah," said Melanie as she gave Yang the stink eye. The bitch flipped Melanie off in return. "Like, you too."

With that Melanie Malachite began her journey back towards Beacon. Hopefully she would find a partner on the return trip.

/ - /

_On the next episode of Skeptic Ball Z…_

_Russel and Sky kneel before Nora. "We beg you! We wish to follow our chosen queen!"_

_A hand wraps around the hilt of Crocea Mors. With this, the Deathstalker could be defeated. This was fate._

_Ren staggers back. "This aura!"_

_Weiss: "He's…completely insane."_

_Jaune: "Ruby, close your eyes and look away. Try to think of something else. Happy thoughts." She does so—or tries to, rather. Ligaments and bones shift in a sickening snap. She whimpers pathetically, tears streaming down her face._

_The boy's life was in danger. Ren knew that if he didn't intervene now…_

_The storm clouds above thundered, as if the skies themselves were shuddering under the weight of his concentrated might._

_Ren: "I am more than just a man."_

_Ozpin: "A hero, huh? χαῖρε, νεανία!"_

_NEXT TIME: Lie Ren changes destiny!?_

* * *

**Post-chapter AN**: here's some (liberal) translations of Ozpin's ancient Greek. If there are any professional classicists lurking around here, feel free to critique my composition skills in a review.

μωροι κύνες. οὐ παραφρονῶ. = Dumb dogs. I am not deranged.

ἆρα πάντες νυν πάρεστιν; = Is everyone here now?

ὦ μαθηταί! νά τώ θεὼ φρουρὰν ἄζηλον ὀχήσω. = O students! By the two gods I am to hold an unenviable watch.

ῥίψω γὰρ τήμερον ὑμᾶς ἐκ τῆς πέτρας. ποιεῖτε τοῦτο ἳνα μοι ἀρέσκητε. καί ἡδέως θεάσομαι τοῦτο ἀθλιωτάτον ἆθλον. = For today I shall throw you all from the cliff. You do this thing so that you might give me pleasure. And with pleasure I shall watch this most wretched struggle.

τί βούλεσθε, ὦ δούλη;…οἴμοι. = What do you want, slave woman?...Oh my.

χαῖρε, νεανία! = Yorokobe shounen!


End file.
